


A is A: Good Works

by Flyboy254



Series: A Is A [39]
Category: Command & Conquer (Video Games), Pumpkin Scissors
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Gen, Terrorism, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24350968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyboy254/pseuds/Flyboy254
Summary: MV-9 responds to a GDI call for assistance in their Colombia. Alice Malvin will not only be forced to reckon with terrorism, but what sometimes is required for the "right thing".
Series: A Is A [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/943266
Comments: 16
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**GOOD WORKS**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Alice sat straight in her chair as Lt. Maus started the presentation. They sat in the GDI headquarters in Brussels, and Alice appreciated the city. It reminded her of home, from the winding streets to the architecture of the buildings. Even the GDI headquarters reminded her of what a military office should be. Strong, official, with honors paid to past leaders. The fact that she’d just gotten several vaccinations and a “peanut butter shot” in her rear did nothing to dampen her mood.

Lt. Maus shut off the lights and tapped on the screen showing a map. “This is Colombia. It’s south of the United States, and the current location of Dead Six. Their mission is almost complete, however they have requested MVTF support to finish.”

Alice beamed with pride. “We’ll help however we can, ma’am. What has Dead Six been doing in this country?”

“Their mission is to engage with FARC. They’re a terrorist group that’s operated in the southern jungles of Colombia for the past thirty years. Their stated mission is to fight the corruption that they say is endemic to their national government. They hope to give control of the farmlands and rural regions to the people who lived there. Unfortunately, when the Brotherhood rose to prominence they allied with Kane for support.”

Martis held up a hand. “I don’t understand. I’ve read the intelligence supplies that said Kane built connections with many terrorist groups. Why did FARC join with Kane if Tiberium was going to destroy what they were fighting for?”

Lt. Maus shook her head. “FARC is fighting against the government, but they don’t have the greatest resources. For years they’ve kidnapped and sold narcotics to secure funding and weapons. When the Brotherhood spread out, they managed to secure funding that didn’t require working with criminals.”

Alice nodded. “Bandits and criminals. We’ll be more than happy to assist MV-5 in this mission. When do we leave for this Colombia?”

Maus put four blue folders on the table. “In three days. Gen. Locke wants you all to study these briefing packets on Colombia and FARC. It’s a bit of a crash course, but we want you all prepared for when you go in.”

Alice smiled, opening the folder to see an organized outline of the country’s history and geography. Colombia had been a colony of a nation called “Spain”, but had fought for independence like America. She noticed that despite this, America had aided a section of the country to secure independence in the early 1900s. Since then Colombia had been regional in importance. Until about the 1980s, when a massive influx in the drug “cocaine” had hit the United States and wider world.

Oreldo whistled. “So these guys have been fighting for that long? How’d they manage?”

The image changed to a black and white picture of men with rifles moving through a jungle. “FARC doesn’t concentrate their power in any single region. They have a central command, but decentralized forces across the south of the country. Once Nod rose to prominence among terrorist groups, FARC gravitated toward their network of contacts and arms.”

Martis puzzled over that statement. “If Nod is gone, how is it these groups are still able to get arms and support?”

“The international arms trade is a valuable business for illegal actors. With Nod seemingly defeated, these individuals are rushing to capitalize on this vacuum.”

Alice flipped through the folder. “Why hasn’t the government been able to eliminate them?”

Maus motioned to the latest image, a city under martial law. “Colombia’s government has had poor opinions of itself from its people. The nation was swept up in violence for much of the 1950s, a period known as ‘La Violencia’. Even after a compromise between the involved parties, FARC kept fighting for the rural poor. Eventually the leftist opposition formed into groups like FARC.”

Alice shook her head. “Oppressing the farmers and villagers. Typical criminal tactics.”

Oreldo chuckled. “Sure about that lieutenant?”

Alice looked up, her mind had skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

Maus smiled and shook her head. “FARC has been operating in these regions for so long, in many villages they act as the government. They enforce laws, collect taxes, even resolve disputes. They don’t want to split from Colombia, they want to reshape it. The Colombian government has supported GDI since it was revealed, so their request for aid was one we had to answer. We’ve sent Dead Six to respond, but their request for MVTF assistance is a clue that they’re close to a breakthrough. If you have any questions on your information, or need more, I’ll be more than happy to assist.”

Alice nodded. “Thank you ma’am. Can I ask one question though?”

Maus nodded. “Of course, what is it?”

Alice pointed at her GDI fatigues. “Why can’t we wear our own uniforms?”

Maus sighed. “Your uniforms stand out a bit too much. This way you’ll only be GDI troopers on deployment in Colombia.”

Alice looked like she’d just been told that no, she couldn’t have ice cream after dinner. “Yes ma’am. We’ll make sure to ask if we do have any questions.”

Leaving the room, Oreldo groaned. “Man, a jungle? This place is gonna be murder lieutenant. Why can’t we swap out with another team?”

“MV-1 and 3 still need time for their members to recover. MV-4 is guarding a vital strategic resource, 8 and 9 still need to go to school. It’s up to us this time Oreldo, and we will do justice to Section III’s name.” The way Alice spoke, you’d think she was talking about unlocking a new era in history.

Martis chuckled. “Well ma’am, for now I’d suggest we find a library or archive. This isn’t terrible information, but it would help to learn a little more than what’s in this book.”

As the four walked down the halls of the GDI headquarters (Randel getting his requisite stares), a man with silver birds on his collar came down the other direction. Alice said, “Good morning, sir.”

The man smiled, then noticed Randel. “MVTF?”

Martis sighed. “What gave it away?”

The colonel chuckled, holding out a hand. “Col. Hank Walton. I met MV-8 a few months ago, guess once you know what to look for it’s easy to tell who’s who. So, Dead Six called for help? You people really are changing Parker.”

Oreldo and Martis shared a look. “What do you mean sir?”

“Well, Nick Parker used to be a man who thought he could do everything himself. Now he’s back with Dead Six, requesting assistance, he hasn’t even gotten into a dust-up with the Colombians.”

Alice smiled. “We’re glad to have helped Capt. Parker become a better soldier, sir.”

Walton shrugged. “Well, a better Marine anyway. Anyway, you four have some work to do before you’re wheels up for the mission. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Thank you sir, good morning.” Walking on again, Alice smiled. She could accept Col. O’Neill’s personality, but it was nice to see a military associated with the MVTF that expected professionalism.

As Maus swapped the slides, she heard footsteps enter the room. Turning, she saw Col. Walton walk in. “Good morning sir.”

“Morning Maus,” he said, walking up and handing her a folder. “Who’s his meeting with today?”

“The Polish president. He’s asking when he can expect any assistance against the far-right groups that keep trying to make trouble.”

Walton shook his head. “Bastards get out from under Stalin and they want to turn around and put the boot on someone else’s neck. So, which team is that?”

“MV-9, sir. Specialists in reconstruction and civil relief.”

Walton nodded. “Decent choice to send, Colombia’s gonna bee to show they mean it if they want FARC to disarm. So what’s their special power?”

Maus frowned. “This team doesn’t have any special abilities.”

Walton laughed. “You’re kidding right? That big fella looks like he could bench-press a Mammoth.”

A dignified voice spoke up. “That big fella is also suffering from severe PTSD, his own military just doesn’t recognize it.”

The two turned to see Gen. Locke walking in. Despite his words, he had a small smile as he shook Walton’s hand. “Good to see you Hank.”

“You too sir. I’m thankful you could make the time for me today.”

Locke grunted as he saw down at the back of the conference table. “Well your email got my attention. As well as several members of the Security Council. If what you’re saying can be borne out, we may have a solution to at least one problem.”

Walton nodded, stepping up to the screen. “It’s all laid out in order, lieutenant. Sir, this is my proposal for Operation: SYMMES.”

* * *

Kane read over the reports. “They’re coming along quickly. What about the state of their Board of Directors?”

Enoch motioned over a map of Philadelphia. “At present, the Group’s leaders are quiet. Our analysts believe they’re waiting to become further involved. They don’t know if they can trust the MVTF given how new they are.”

Kane smiled. “Yes, they always were cautious. What about their current movements?”

“MV-9 has been sighted in Brussels. The current location of Dead Six is unknown, but our best intelligence places them in the Americas.”

Kane nodded. “Very well. I want it made clear to our teams, continue observation only. What about Joseph and the Project?”

“Observers of the Project state that his followers have already seized much of the county he’s moved his people to. However, his mental state is starting to show signs of instability. Several of our own believe that it may be better to cut him off and leave him for the authorities.”

Kane shook his head. “Joseph will stay in place for now. He will show a greater purpose once the MVTF arrives.”

Enoch watched as Kane stood from his desk and walked to the windows overlooking the control room. The red-bathed light soaked everything. Brothers and sisters below monitored everything from electronic transmissions to emails to the movements of entire universes. Faceless Black Hand acolytes stood proudly at the doors, pistols holsters and loaded. Just in case.

“Enoch, I think it’s time I told you about a personal project of mine.”

Enoch was struck. “What project is this brother?”

Kane smiled, walking to a large console on the side of the room. “I suppose you can say I’ve been trying to find myself.”

Enoch’s eyes widened as Kane showed him the work.

* * *

The team was a study in contrasts. Martis was tearing through the information, a pad of legal paper next to him already half-filled with notes and observations. Alice’s pad had some notes, but she looked confused and pained every few pages. Randel kept scratching his head, awkward as he tried to piece together the information in front of him. Oreldo had his feet up on the table, one arm folded behind his head as he ignored the stares some of the GDI troopers were giving him. He had no way of knowing that an archive room like this wasn’t free from military decorum.

“This entire country is a mess,” Alice whispered. “They’ve been fighting each other like this for so long? How can their government let this continue?”

Oreldo peeked from the side of his folder. “You mean like how the Empire just leaves District Zero alone?”

Alice frowned at Oreldo. “This isn’t just one city district Oreldo. These papers make it seem like an entire half of the country is in open rebellion. They’re lucky GDI is willing to assist them in this matter.”

“Well there aren’t many people we can consider reliable here lieutenant. These autodefensas are apparently backed by criminal organizations, and the government is colluding with them against FARC. The government itself is heavily corrupt, they’ve only recently started to right the ship.”

Alice read over the page she was on, documenting the relationship between criminal cartels and the Colombian government. It was as if the Colombian officials didn’t even exist as independent entities, only paid actors on behalf of the cartels. It was only in the past few years that enough headway was made to clean up the worst of the corruption. The hardest part was reading that the main source of funding for the corruption.

The United States of America.

Randel looked up from his reading. “Lieutenant? Are you sure you still want me to be on missions without my lantern? I’m not sure if I’ll be very helpful.”

Alice smiled up at Randel. “Of course, corporal. You’re still a part of Section III, it wouldn’t be right to not have you with us on a mission.”

Randel smiled, his usual sad and gentle smile. “If you’re sure, ma’am.”

Going back to her file, Alice flipped through the pages to the section on the Colombian military. It had been hit hard by the conflict, suffering loss after loss from FARC before Nod had risen. Now, it was a choice of reform or…

“ _Die. They can reform or they can die._ ”

Alice didn’t like how hard that though stuck in her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Alice shuddered as the plane landed in Bogotá. She didn’t mind flying, the Empire had been using airships for five years so the concept didn’t strike her as unbelievable. Which was to say, she was still gripping the seat as the plane angled in for the runway. She was still doing better than Oreldo, who looked like he was muttering that he’d never do something again if he survived. Martis’ eyes were shut tight, teeth gritted as the plan jumped every few seconds. Randel was the only one who didn’t look nervous. Alice could only guess why he was so calm. She would’ve preferred flying on a larger aircraft. The small little “jet” they were in didn’t look like it could stand up to a stiff breeze.

The pilot came over the intercom. “ _Folks, we’re coming in on approach to Bogotá. Temperature outside is a mild sixy-three degrees outside, clear skies for the rest of the day. We know you didn’t have any options, but we thank you for flying with GDI._

Alice rolled her eyes at the joke. Peeking out the window, she saw the ground coming closer and closer. A minute later the plane jolted as it made contact with the runway. That was the part Alice hated, that shuddering alert as the wheels screamed against the tarmac. She didn’t relax her grip until she felt the plan rolling off the runway toward a waiting hangar. A group of uniformed men waited out front, Alice noting they were wearing the same uniform she was.

The door on the side of the plane opened. Grabbing her bag, Alice was the first one out to see a GDI sergeant waiting. “Lt. Malvin? This way ma’am, the chopper is ready to take off.”

Alice nodded, hurrying behind the sergeant to one of the waiting “helicopters”. There were two other aircraft nearby. They had jet engines, two of them on either side. Weapon pods hung under stubby wings, and a six-barrel gun hung underneath the cockpit. With the men circled around them the same way they were around the helicopter, she realized that they were getting an armed escort.

Hurrying onto the helicopter, she strapped herself in. Looking back, she saw them loading several large crates on behind her team. Before she could ask what the green plastic cases were, the crew ran off and the doors closed.

The ground crew scattered as the rotors spun up. The pilot came over the radio. “El Dorado, this is Hitchcock 2-7. Requesting clearance for takeoff.”

“ _Roger 2-7. Proceed on heading 187 away from the city. Godspeed._ ”

The Chinook shuddered, rising from the tarmac in a careful ascension. The V-7/A “Orca” aircraft roared as they rose. The two VTOLs took positions just behind the Chinook, to the left and right.

Flying on the Chinook was a different beast from the jet. The seats were bare, canvass squares sewn over metal tubes. The ceiling was covered in wires, bare metal a stark contrast to the paneled interior of the jet. Even a long trip in an auto was more comfortable than a helicopter.

Leaning back as best she could in the seat, Alice let herself think. With any luck, the mission would be over with enough time to get back to the Empire before the summer started. She wanted to begin a new initiative based on what she’d seen in America’s history. A massive public works program, putting the people to work and teaching them skills while revitalizing the Empire’s infrastructure. It had transformed America, there was no reason it couldn’t transform the Empire. All the better, given that the Republic was still a border away.

Alice couldn’t stop herself from scowling. The Republic of Frost. If it hadn’t been for them, how much better would the Empire be? No war that destroyed so many towns and villages. Not even a need for a Section III. She wasn’t stupid, the Empire would have had troubles no matter what since the Silver Wheel was around. The difference was she would have been able to serve and fight them. Them and anyone who stood with them.

Like her fiancé.

Alice leaned her head back, at least for a second until the vibrations forced her forward. She’d been distant from him ever since the briefing from Team Rainbow. The truth had struck like a hammer. Dr. Mackenzie was right, the revelation had shaken her. Going out riding, clearing her head for a few hours, it did help. Spending time with her team had done some good too. Despite it, there was always that realization that the man she was betrothed to was part of such a group.

The Silver Wheel was still a mystery. Alice could accept that her missions with Section III were entertainment, at least after Maj. Carter had explained the basics of the multiverse. What she couldn’t take was the not knowing. The series being cancelled had denied them intelligence, answers on who else was part of the conspiracy and what their ultimate goal was. Still, their proof was enough. While she had been risking her life during the winter ball, Lionel Taylor had manipulated everything. The peasants, the installation of Lord Hoost as Minister of the Treasury. Alice realized she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had a part in the creation of the Invisible Nine along with Dr. Kauplan.

That drew her attention to Randel. The massive corporal was still calm, even as the helicopter turned south. Whatever Kauplan had done, Randel still lived with it. The fact that a species more advanced than any member of the MVTF had stated the implant in his head was dangerous made her anger rise. She’d wanted to confront Muze Kauplan, but Capt. Hunks ordered her not to.

“ _Too dangerous,_ ” she repeated to herself. “ _These people are literally embedded in the foundation of the Empire. You going after them now is liable to kill more than yourself._ ”

Alice hated it, the fact that she couldn’t strike against the evil in her country. The analogy of her section cutting through corruption like scissors through a pumpkin didn’t fit anymore. Now it seemed like they needed to be a jackhammer, smashing away until the corruption was dust.

The flight wasn’t terrible, the helicopter turning every few miles. Alice hadn’t noticed the time pass until they started the descent. At least a helicopter landing didn’t strike her as troubling. It came down to a stop on the ground. No speeding down a runway to do it.

The rear opened up, a group of GDI troopers moving inside and pushing the crates out. Shouldering her bag, Alice led the way off.

They were on another airstrip, smaller than the one in the capital. Four vehicles stood by the landing zone, a pair of forklifts loading the containers on to a pair of trucks.

Erich “Patch” Wulfe stood next to a large auto behind the trucks. He was a blonde man, attentive brown eyes under shorn hair. In contrast to the GDI troopers, he wore a combat vest with a blue undershirt. He smiled and waved at the four as they came down the ramp. That was when Alice felt the icy pinprick on her neck. “MV-9! _Willkommen in Kolumbien_. You’ve briefed?”

Alice nodded, walking up to the soldier throwing up a salute. “Yes, we’ve-”

Patch grabbed her hand and started shaking, grinning like at her as he guided her to the auto. “Perfect! Everyone inside, the base is just a drive through the town.”

Alice didn’t get a chance to say anything else as she was thrown into the truck. As her team threw their bags in, Patch glared at her. “ _Jesus Christus_ , are you trying to get me killed?”

Alice blanched. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t salute a man in the open like that, not in Colombia. Anywhere outside of a garrison is a non-saluting zone.”

Alice started kicking herself. “ _Of course, the Republic did the same in the early days of the war. If FARC is a group of terrorists, then it makes sense that they’d be so underhanded._ ”

Randel clambered into the middle, Martis and Oreldo trying to squeeze in around him. Oreldo grunted as he shut his door. “Well, we’re as packed as the luggage lieutenant. Think we can get moving before we suffocate?”

The trucks loaded, the small convoy rolled out of the airport. The town was small, more like one of the villages Alice was used to back home. The people were like the ones in the Empire, walking about the shops and getting their food for dinner. The autos looked a little older than the ones she’d seen in Brussels. More rusted, more smoke coming out the back as they rolled along.

Patch rolled a few yards behind the rear Humvee. “We’ve been working with the GDI detachment and Colombian Army. Our rough plan is to strike down the center of the country, split FARC in two. From there the Colombians can destroy their fighting strength as the politicians pressure them into a political settlement.”

Alice reacted like a Philadelphian hearing someone say the Cowboys were America’s team. “What are you talking about? I thought we were here to help MV-5 destroy these criminals.”

Patch looked confused, then groaned. “Right, you haven’t had a Vietnam yet.”

Martis croaked from between Randel and the door. “I suppose you’re going to tell us what you mean?”

“In our world, and probably several others, the United States was involved in a war against a similar threat in Vietnam. They thought the right solution was a typical American one. Bomb the enemy into submission and cut him down with your army. That was their mistake.”

Alice shook her head. “But isn’t the entire point of a war to fight for your nation? For the right reasons?”

Patch grinned. “That’s what the Viet Cong were fighting for too. They were fighting to push what they saw as a foreign invader out of their homeland. They hid in jungles, used booby traps, it cost the Americans thousands of lives and millions of dollars over two decades. Eventually the American people had enough, they demanded a withdrawal of all troops.”

Alice looked like she’d short circuited. “The American military lost!?”

Patch laughed. “Politically. It was revealed years later, the Americans inflicted massive military losses on the Viet Cong, they were close to wiping them out. It was the cost of the war at home. The problem was the Viet Cong acted like an invisible army. They gave the government of North Vietnam the leverage necessary to force an end to the fighting on their terms. The Americans could have done whatever they wanted, it wouldn’t have stopped the Viet Cong from fighting.”

That did more to Alice than the jolt to the car from the pothole. The entire reason the war had stopped between the Empire and Frost was because neither side could gain an advantage over the other. If America had fought the Republic, it could have won with almost no casualties. “So, the Viet Cong had better technology?”

Patch’s laughter kept her silent the rest of the way.

The base wasn’t what Alice was expected. There were no high stone walls or parade grounds. There was a chain link fence, surrounding a sad collection of worn stucco buildings. A two-man shack was the guard post, two bored soldiers standing out front smoking. Stopping the lead Humvee, they checked the driver before raising the red and white gate. Alice was even less impressed once she was inside.

It was easy to tell the difference between the GDI and local soldiers. The GDI soldiers carried themselves as professionals. They looked watchful, alert, ready to act. The Colombians looked relaxed, rifled hanging off their shoulders as they smoked and talked. Some argued over cards, others leaned out of the windows to talk to their buddies. The trucks rolled to a sectioned off area of the base, Patch parking at the largest building. Two flagpoles sported the Colombian and UN flags. Alice noticed that there was a rather conspicuous black auto in the base next to the same building.

“The team is inside… _Verdammt!_ Come on, we need to keep him from killing someone.” Jumping out of the truck, Patch hurried inside the building. Alice rushed to keep pace, almost forgetting to show the sentry inside her technically-fake GDI ID.

Clambering up the stairs, Alice followed Patch past a pair of confused GDI troopers. She could hear raised voices as she followed him down the hall, Parker’s voice noticeable among them. Patch slowed at the door, taking a breath before walking in.

A middle-aged man in a suit and blue tie glared at Parker. He looked like some of the younger senators Alice saw in Washington, with expertly coifed hair and manicured nails. “The entire point of this operation was to ensure safety for the Colombian people. You mean to tell me that the all-powerful GDI cannot stop FARC after they demolished Kane and Nod?”

Parker had his feet up on the table, leaning back with a flippant expression. “Nod concentrated their forces in single locations. FARC is smart enough to be spread out through a damn jungle. Cops weren’t much help either.”

A man in a Colombian Army uniform tried to jump into the conversation. “ _Senor_ Mejia, GDI’s assistance has already secured the north from cartel interference. They just need your support to-”

The older man sneered. “To do what? Coddle terrorists? Forgive them for their crimes? Same as before, the _gringos_ telling us how to act when they do as they please. None of your nations were so gentle with their problems.”

Patch rolled his eyes as he cleared his throat. “The team is here.”

Parker looked over, Alice noticing his expression darken as he saw who it was. Biting is tongue, he turned to the Colombian. “Tapia, you want to handle the good senator for a few minutes?”

The soldier nodded, trying to smile as the senator straightened his suit. Once the door was shut, Parker waited for a few minutes before he spoke. “Jeez, what happened to an actual team?”

Alice blinked. “Sir?”

Patch sighed. “We specifically requested MV-3 or 4. Failing that, MV-1 or 2. Your team-”

“Was dead freaking last on my list. Jesus, no one could find you a babysitter?”

Alice stiffened. “Sir, my team are more than capable of aiding you in this mission.”

Parker sneered. “Do you even have jungle training?”

Alice stumbled. “No, but-”

“Have you ever led a patrol?”

“Not since-”

“God, this is why I didn’t want you. Your big guy can’t even use his lantern anymore right?” Randel nodded. Parker clapped his hands and grinned. “There we go. What happened to Korra?”

Martis took over. “Ms. Korra and her team recently suffered severe injuries, they need time to recover. The same for MV-1, Ms. Scarlet took a bullet to the leg.”

Parker groaned, rubbing at his face. “Patch?”

Patch sighed. “The time to request and receive another team will be too long. The Colombians are growing impatient. As is the GDI leadership. We need to make our move now. If nothing else they can act as additional bodies when we need them.”

Parker glared at Alice. “You know how to use a gun?” Alice nodded. “Good, you’re all on board. Patch, get’em to the armory and some gear. I’ll figure out what’ll happen in the meantime.”

Alice didn’t have time to process Parker’s words before Patch hauled her out of the room. “Come on, we’ll get you to your rooms before we get your weapons.”

The door shut again, Parker went to the phone in the center of the table. Dialing, he waited for the connection. “ _Good morning, GDI Headquarters Europe, Lt. Adriana-_ ”

“Maus, get him on the phone.”

Maus groaned on the other end. “ _He’ll only tell you the same thing I will._ ”

“Well I want to hear it from him.”

The line went silent for a minute. Then an annoyed voice answered. “ _Havoc._ ”

“What the hell is this Locke? You said we’re get an MV team, not a dressed-up idiot and her pet rejects.”

“ _As I recall, you said to avoid bringing MVs 7 or 8 in. You specified that those two teams were not to be brought to Colombia._ ”

“You know damn well what I meant. Why the hell couldn’t you get anyone else?”

“ _Don’t think I’m not aware of the reality of the situation Havoc. Looking at the why for FARC’s continued resistance, I believe we made as good a decision as we could._ ”

“So I’m supposed to go in with a girl who can’t even go into a jungle?”

“ _Havoc I only have so many cards to play with the MVTF. You made the request and the Security Council approved it. If I had turned you down they’d ask just how useful the MVTF is to our continued efforts outside of Tiberium containment._ ”

“Well they’ll sure be useful at getting us killed. That big guy’s useless, the goldbrick is a threat, hell just send those two home.”

“ _Then we get to worry about offending an ally, and potentially the rest of the MVTF. They are staying and they are assisting you Havoc. Use them to see if the Colombians are holding up their end of the agreement. If not then we’ll be forced to act._ ”

Parker laughed. “I told you we’d have to do that when we left.”

“ _The Security Council didn’t agree. You still have an experienced team of MV operatives Havoc. Either use them or scrub the mission._ ”

“My funeral.” Slamming the phone down, Parker rose and went for the door. He needed to see about the prep for the mission.

* * *

Alice stared at the black lump of metal she had been told was a rifle. Patch held up another of the same make. “Welcome to the future. This is the favorite of the Americans, the M16A2. It’s a simple weapon, no need to use a bolt anymore. You just need to pull the trigger, and the rifle does the rest.”

Oreldo grinned as he ran a hand over his rifle. “Finally, we get to use these on someone else for a change.”

Patch smiled, then turned to see Randel. The giant held his rifle like it was a child’s toy. Patch half-worried he would break it in half on accident. Shaking his head, he showed them the rifle. “We’ll have to see that the SGC gives you all a proper training program. For now, just understand this. Take a magazine. Slide it into the well here. Once the magazine is secure, pull the charging handle.”

Alice tried to do so. She slammed the sheet metal magazine into the well and pulled the handle. It felt alien, so different from having a blade in her hands. Even during officer’s training she’d hated using the pistols. Loud, obnoxious weapons that stank of gunpowder and oil.

Patch moved on, pointing to a mechanism just behind the trigger. “Now the important thing is here. This is your selector. Safe, semi-automatic, and three-round burst. You just need to move your thumb and you move the selector. I recommend you all remain on semi until we can get you properly trained. Just keep your rifles out of the mud and water, you should be fine. If your rifle jams, pull back on the charging handle and eject the round.”

Randel held up a hand. “Uh, sir? Aren’t you gonna teach us how to clean these?”

Patch laughed. “Yes, I will Randel. Malvin, you and your men practice how to load the rifles. Oland, over here.”

Alice sighed, pressing the button that ejected the magazine. Working the selector switch, she thought back to her grandfather when he spoke about firearms. A sin, he would say. The longing look in his eyes told her that he lost more than friends to them. He spoke about how they could make any man a killer, that they were the opposite ideal of what a knight should be.

As she adjusted the harness GDI gave her, she couldn’t stand how soulless these other dimensions treated their duties as soldiers. She’d read up on knights in the other dimensions, and found they all had morphed into the armies of these other worlds. Only they had lost what made them knights in the first place. It was like the very concept of nobility meant nothing anymore. Few countries in any of these universes still had any royal families, and of those the most “powerful” were reduced to acting as figureheads. It frustrated her, the idea that the people who should rule were instead the playthings of parliaments and demagogues.

She looked over and saw her team smiling. Randel followed Patch’s instructions as he disassembled the rifle. Oreldo and Martis practicing loading and unloading their rifles. They were overjoyed, getting to use more weapons that were more advanced than what the Silver Wheel had access to. They’d been making constant hints about bringing some of the weapons back with them, using them on missions back in the Empire. She was thankful that Capt. Hunks had been the one constantly telling them to forget it.

The Colombian officer from the conference room walked in. “Patch, you are here?”

Patch smiled as he looked over. “Tapia, good timing. This is our support commando team.”

Tapia nodded, shaking hands with Alice. “Pleasure to meet you. Capt. Ramon Tapia, _Fuerza de Despliegue Rápido_.”

Alice shook back, about to answer when Patch spoke over her. He motioned to Alice, Oreldo, Martis, and Randel in turn. “That’s Princess, this is Chaser and Squints, and of course the obviously-titled Tiny.”

Tapia laughed, shaking their hands in turn. “GDI and their names. For asking people to trust them, they do not trust other people easily.”

Patch smirked at the man. “Well you never know who is with who in our work. How is the senator taking our answer?”

Tapia groaned. “The man still thinks that FARC should be buried in the Amazon in mass graves. Whatever happens during this operation, we need to make it perfect if we plan to win him over. It won’t be easy, his chief of staff is an associate of the AUC.”

It was insanity to Alice. The government was fighting FARC and AUC, only elements of the military (Evidently not Tapia) colluded with the AUC. That was if the AUC weren’t in the pockets of companies using them to protect their interests. Which meant FARC had to sell drugs to keep in the fight. It was such a complex web of alliances and moving parts that Alice couldn’t see who was actually fighting for their own country.

Finished with the rifles, Alice and her team were led back to the conference room. The rest of Dead Six were present, waiting at the table with a still-angry Parker. Gunner wave from his spot at the projector. “Malvin, welcome to Colombia. Nice to see you lot.”

Alice smiled, or at least attempted a smile. “It’s nice to see you too, lieu-”

Parker glared at her. “No ranks. No names. We’re covert remember?”

Patch nodded. “ _Ja_ , they already have callsigns. Princess, Chaser, Squints, Tiny.”

The commandos chuckled at the names. Gunner turned on the projector as Hotwire turned off the lights and stepped up to the screen. There was a map of southern Colombia. A red arrow pointed down to the border, with two arrows sweeping upwards from it. “This is the plan, Operation Vigilant Dawn. GDI commando units and Colombian Army units will press south, into the Amazon. The objective is the elimination of FARC strongholds and concentrations of units. Each unit has specific objectives for their part of the plan, and ours is in the center.”

The image switched to show what Alice saw was a satellite image of the region, with more arrows showing routes of advance. Hotwire went on. “We’ll proceed on Highway 75 to Calamar, then proceed into the rural region along with Capt. Tapia’s company. Using river boats, we plan to move to Miraflores and link up with resupply before proceeding on to our final objective, Mitu.”

“We are moving in advance of the main force, tasked with taking out several FARC camps that could threaten the advance south.” The slide changed to a series of Xs along the route Hotwire just laid out. Alice noted that several of them were rather far from the river.

“We’ve also been ordered to defer to the Colombian Army on any matter involving the AUC. We are cleared to engage if fired on, but not to interfere in what the Colombian military claims is an internal matter.”

Alice shot up from her seat. “The AUC are harming their own country! We can’t sit back and wait for the Colombian government to solve this problem if there are elements of it supporting these bandits!”

Parker didn’t even look over. “We’re here because of FARC. If the Colombians want to be jackasses, that’s their call.”

Martis noticed Gunner, Deadeye, and Bruiser all cringe at the mention of Colombia’s government and the AUC. Looking at the map, he spoke up. “What is the final objective? Are we trying to eliminate FARC once and for all?”

Hotwire shook her head. “No, that would take decades at best. This is to force FARC to come to the negotiating table. The Colombian government is willing to negotiate in good faith but we need to give them the leverage necessary to hold FARC accountable for their crimes.”

Martis didn’t buy that. Looking back at the map, he noticed that the six FARC strongholds were nowhere near any of the villages they were going into. Mitu wasn’t even near a FARC position. Why was that their final objective?

The next slide was of three strange images, colored blobs moving in a sea of blue. Hotwire grinned at the reactions from MV-9. “A special camera that reads heat signatures. You’ll advance to this point in the next few years. These are the three camps we’ve been tasked with destroying. They have the greatest numbers, and initial reports state they have weapons that they shouldn’t have.”

Oreldo’s eyebrow went up. “Weapons they shouldn’t have. Meaning the Nod weapons that are out there.”

Hotwire nodded. “As long as FARC has access to Nod weapons, they’ll remain a serious threat to Colombian operations. Presuming these camps have the majority of FARC’s new weapons, we’d undercut their ability to fight the Colombian military on a roughly-equal footing. Once we finish our mission, the Colombian Army can seize the initiative.”

Alice steeled her gaze on the image. “When do we start?”

“Three days.” Parker rose and started moving for the door. “Patch, help them actually use a damn rifle. Gunner, Hotwire, work with Tapia, make sure his people are ready. Deadeye, give me a hand.”

As Deadeye went with Parker, Alice was left staring at the “heat pictures” of the three strongholds. She thought back to when she’d fought the Lodelian guards, of how they bragged about being soldiers in the jungles. She still considered that one of her most dangerous fights. This time, she was going to face an army of bandits who could make their own bases in the jungles. Who GDI considered dangerous enough to send their elite commando team to face down.

She clenched her fist. “ _I’ll do the Empire proud here. I won’t react like I did in Amestris. I will be what an officer should be. What a knight should be._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

**Two Days Later**

* * *

Alice was up before the sun, grabbing her dagger and practicing for the morning. She’d started ever since she knew she’d join the army, a young girl of sixteen. Thrust, parry, deflect. Thrust, parry, deflect. Her grandfather had always told her to remember the fundamentals, to never think that mastery implied the end of learning. She’d taken his words to heart. The only times she’d failed to practice with her blade were when she was too sick to get out of bed.

Finished, she checked over her uniform. It might have been GDI, but she would still wear it properly. She polished the black combat boots to a sheen. She checked her trousers and blouse for loose threads, she’d heard them called “IPs” in the SGC. She hated that showers were the norm in so many universes though. A bath at the end of the day was what any good soldier deserved. Not water sprinkled over them in the morning.

Dressed and dagger strapped, Alice walked out to see Hotwire walking down the hall. The woman came from a place called “Israel”, but had an accent that reminded Alice of the urban jewelers in the Empire. She started to say hello, until she saw Alice’s dagger. “You’re taking that out with you?”

Alice nodded. “It’s the badge of the Malvin household, given to us by the Emperor when the Empire made our family the thirteenth noble house. It’s always supposed to be on my person.”

Hotwire pointed at it. “Does it always need to be visible too?”

Alice took a second to understand. Sighing, she took off the scabbard and went back into her room. Putting it inside her bag, she went back out into the hall. “I suppose badges of office like it aren’t allowed.”

Hotwire shook her head. “Not anymore. There was gold on the handle? You’re basically asking for a sniper or sentry to shoot you.”

Alice sighed, following Hotwire downstairs. The Israeli looked over her shoulder at the lieutenant. “You’re still feeling what Havoc said to you yesterday, aren’t you?”

Alice nodded. “It wasn’t exactly how the MVTF should be treating each other. I know I would never talk to someone the same way Parker does to any of the other teams.”

Hotwire grinned. “Well you’re still on his shit list. So far all he knows about you is that you didn’t evacuate the jail in Magnolia and you lost your weapon. If you want to make it clear to him that you’re a capable soldier? That’s not the way to do it.”

Alice cringed. “He still remembers that?”

Hotwire laughed as the two went out the front door. “Everyone remembers that. You’re lucky he didn’t hit you.”

Alice’s face screwed up. “He’d strike another officer? Even in the middle of a crisis?”

Hotwire shrugged. “Being honest, all of us wanted to hit you for that fuck up with the jail.”

Alice groaned, following Hotwire to the dining hall. “At least I’m not the only one he hates. I can’t imagine what he must be like to MV-8.”

Hotwire shook her head. “They’re kids, you’re an officer.”

Alice sighed, stopping where she was. “So I’m still not good enough to the rest of the MVTF.”

Hotwire held back a groan. “No, you’re still learning. You’re experiencing a culture shock, I’d be worried if you just dove in and accepted everything. Have you even asked anyone to try and explain things to you?”

Alice grew sheepish. “I suppose I haven’t.”

Hotwire shook her head, but she smiled as she started walking again. “Let’s start with the basics. No one uses daggers as a badge of rank. As far as jungle warfare is concerned, that’s just something they can loot off your body.”

Alice nodded. “So, no one uses any blades anymore?”

Hotwire shrugged. “GDI member nations still issue bayonets. Combat knives are an option too. You need to dull the blade though, otherwise you can reflect light.”

As the two walked into the dining hall, Alice followed Hotwire’s lead. Flashing her GDI ID, she grabbed a tray and fell into the line. She noticed that in the line, the officers and enlisted were together waiting for their food. Meaning they got the same food as well. She looked down at her plate as she followed Hotwire to a table. A plate of brown rice, two strips of pork, and slices of potatoes. Taking a glass of water, Alice sat across from Hotwire. “What else should I know?”

Hotwire shrugged. “You should know, nobility doesn’t mean much.”

Alice nodded, taking the salt shaker with a glum expression. “I’m starting to figure that out.”

Hotwire smiled, digging in to her breakfast. “You’re surprised? You know how America was founded. What happened to the French and Russians? People here know better. Nobility is just a title. Nobles are just as human as any poor fool.”

Alice pursed her lips, taking a few bites of breakfast before she spoke. “Of course we’re human. We never claim to be anything else. Why does everyone think we’re better than them?”

Hotwire cocked an eyebrow. “You carry around a gold dagger as a badge of office.”

Alice sighed, rubbing at her forehead. “That’s just how it is in the Empire. Nobles don’t expect to get any special treatment compared to each other.”

“That’s the problem. Nobles treat each other equally, or at least they claim to. I read those chapters about that fight in the ball. You think nobles and rioters apologizing to each other solves the problems in your country? Even if there wasn’t a force manipulating the riot, you still didn’t solve the root cause.”

Alice waited until a pair of Colombian soldiers passed the table before continuing. “Then what can I do? I’m already doing everything I can as part of Section III. We only have ourselves to scour the entire country for cases of corruption and lack of relief.”

Hotwire’s eyebrow went up. “So why not ask us for more help? You already know Hoost is dirty. Why not ask us for listening devices that you can use? Dive into his own finances, have us stake out his manor or whatever he lives in. If you secure evidence he can’t deny, where does that leave him?”

Alice looked like she’d just short circuited. Hotwire could swear there was smoke coming out of her ears. “That isn’t how it works in the Empire! A noble like Lord Hoost can only be brought up on charges when the evidence is presented to the magistrates. Just taking pictures of whatever he does won’t be enough, and his personal finances would require a magistrate to ask him if we could look.”

That got Hotwire to shrug again. “Maybe you should build up Section III? You said it yourself, there’s only six of you. Seven if you count the dog. You need to build up your numbers. Otherwise you’ll never accomplish anything.”

Alice shook her head. “We’d have no way to do that. Capt. Hunks has enough of a fight trying to secure any funding.”

Hotwire stopped as she was about to take a bit out of her potatoes. “Aren’t you always going on about how you’re in one of the thirteen families of the Empire? Why not use that to your advantage?”

Alice dropped her fork. “Use my family name like that?!”

A hearty laugh joined them, Gunner sitting down next to Alice. “What happened, she just learn about what the Internet’s used for?”

Hotwire smirked. “She just realized that if she wants to accomplish anything, she needs to play the game.”

Gunner shook his head, grabbing the salt. Alice didn’t’ fail to notice the man’s biceps were as large as her head. “Ah, and here she was doing so well too. Shame, now she’s no better than the rest of us.”

Alice glared up at Gunner. “What are you talking about? I didn’t say I would do anything. And what game? This is more than a game, this is people’s lives and hopes!”

Gunner rolled his eyes. “It’s an expression, Princess. So, what’d you tell’er?”

Hotwire took another forkful of rice. “That she needed numbers, money, and to actually utilize the task force.”

Alice shook her head. “That would make me as terrible as Lord Taylor. That kind of skullduggery is beneath a knight.”

Gunner laughed, he shook the table without even banging his fist on it. “You’re not a knight, you’re a soldier. Big difference.”

“Excuse me?”

Gunner grinned down at Alice with his one good eye. “What’s the point of being a knight anymore? Wrapped up in honor, codes of conduct? Sure, there’s rules of war and all for your men if you’re on the front. Only you aren’t on the front are you? Hell, what good’s honor gonna do you and your men if you get captured in another universe where they don’t believe in it?”

Hotwire took over. “Taylor is a sociopath, he only wants for himself. The Silver Wheel is a means to an end for him. You.”

Alice couldn’t stop herself shuddering. “What do you mean me? And what’s a sociopath?”

Hotwire sighed. “He doesn’t see other people as people. He sees them as things, objects to use and throw away when they aren’t useful. Once Hoost isn’t useful, what do you think will happen?”

Alice remembered what happened to Viscount Wolkins, his “heart attack” after Section III took him into custody along with his auto-loading tank. “Then what do you mean when he wants me?”

Gunner and Hotwire both shared a look before Gunner spoke. “He doesn’t see you as a fiancé or a soldier. You’re a prize, something he wants to break and take control of. The harder you fight, the more he’ll enjoy the idea of tearing you down.”

Hotwire leaned forward. “That won’t happen. Not when you’ve got us. Taylor’s not a big man anymore. Fuck, he’s a shrimp compared to the rest of the threats the MVTF faces. You think he can match up with the likes of Kane or the Goa’uld?”

Alice’s expression didn’t lift. “He’s still the greatest threat to the Empire right now.”

Gunner polished off his plate. “Well you aren’t in the Empire right now. We’re gonna have another run through for your team and finish planning for the operation. Think you’re getting used to the rifles and kit?”

Alice nodded, cutting up another hunk of pork. “I can handle the equipment. I’d love to try and introduce these designs to the Imperial Design Bureau to manufacture.”

Gunner blinked as Hotwire slid the pork onto his plate. “Let me guess, the Empire can’t accept any design that isn’t made by nobles?”

Alice smiled. “Yes, how’d you guess?”

Leaving the dining hall and taking Alice’s rifle from the armory, the trio went for the far end of the compound. Bruiser and Patch waited with Randel, Oreldo, and Martis. The trio were adjusting their equipment, though poor Randel looked like he was liable to rip out of his harness. They hadn’t even bothered giving him a helmet or cover.

Bruiser turned and smiled. “Morning Princess! Don’t you look a sight today. Doesn’t she look a sight, Patch?”

Patch grunted as he tried to loosen Randel’s ammo belt. “Yes, a sight.”

Oreldo checked his pouches. “Morning lieutenant. So, what do you think? Maybe we can bring this stuff back with us?”

Alice smiled. “You know we can’t do that Oreldo. So, what will our first drill be?”

Bruiser grinned, his red beard standing out particularly hard in the compound. “Do you remember how to advance under fire?”

As one the four repeated, “I’m up, he sees me, I’m down.”

“Excellent. What about the radius of a grenade?”

As one, “Five meters to kill, fifteen to wound.”

So it went, Alice and her team practicing hand signals and patrol distances. She practiced loading and unloading the rifle. Loading dummy rounds into the magazines and practicing how to chamber them. The rifle felt strange in her hands, the polymer grip alien compared to the wood of the rifles back home. The sight was so bizarre, why would it need to have three posts when just the one in the center would do?

“ _¡Buenos días Princesa! ¿Están hambrientos ustedes?_ ”

The group turned to see Tapia walk in. Bruiser smiled as the man walked up. “Captain. Care to extend whatever you bloody said to rest of us?”

Tapia laughed, smiling as he clapped Martis on the shoulder. Poor Martis shook hard as it happened. “Lunch! We’re going to have a last lunch before we move into the jungles. Last good meal any of us will have for some time. You’re all invited.”

Hotwire nodded. “We’ll be there, we just need to finish these drills. What time?”

“An hour. Be there before the others, our best man is doing the cooking.” Waving, Tapia went for the mess hall with a smile on his face.

Alice looked to Gunner. “Do many armies in your world do such things?”

Gunner grinned, slapping Alice on the back. Thank God there was a sling, otherwise the rifle would’ve gone flying. “We’ll teach you some good traditions yet. Now, get into a line, we’ll practice ambushes.”

* * *

[Finished](https://youtu.be/-bGtp-SAC_A), Alice followed Dead Six to the mess. There was the sound of music in the distance, along with loud and rapid “Spanish”. The smell of fresh food came to her, but as she saw the gathering she was confused. Instead of a proper meal inside the mess it was a collection of tables and chairs set outside the building. Then she realized that there were two officers manning the cooking equipment! She turned to Hotwire and asked, “Are they in some kind of trouble?”

Hotwire took a second, then laughed. “They’re probably the best cooks they have. It’s a unit function, they don’t need the cooks inside to do this for them.”

“But they’re cooking! In front of their subordinates!”

Hotwire nodded. “Yes, because…”

Alice took a few seconds until it dawned. “Because their men are their responsibility!”

Hotwire laughed. “See? You’re learning. C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

Alice smiled, following with the commandos to the small crowd. The group was gathered in groups, talking and laughing as they ate. Some were on a small patch of grass, kicking a black-and-white ball around each other. Another group had a large orange ball they were trying to put in a hoop with an open net. The talk was loud and boisterous, uniform blouses shed to run in the shining sun. Alice found herself getting wrapped up in the fun, until she came up to where the food was being served.

Tapia smiled at her, laughing as he piled food onto a plate. “Hey, Princess! Glad you could make it. We were worried you GDIs weren’t going to want to eat with us.”

Gunner laughed, clapping Alice on the shoulder. “And miss some good food for a change? Not bloody likely! C’mon lads, get yourself some food!”

Alice blinked, watching as her men went forward. Hotwire leaned in and whispered, “It would be strange for an officer to eat before their men here.” Once again, Alice had to face the strange idea that the officers were some kind of leader-subservient to their men.

Tapia laughed as he doled out the food. “Where’s Havoc? He does not look like a man who turns down food.”

Bruiser shrugged, smiling as the food was piled on. As Alice stared at the sheer amount of food, Bruiser went on. “Well you can’t predict that one, can ya? I say we enjoy the time here, and the food. Bloody hell, smells delicious.”

Alice didn’t agree. Trying to keep her smile up, she stared at the pile of food on her plate. Reddish beans next to a mound of white rice. A fried egg on top. Two potato wedges on one sice of the plate, and a strange light-green fruit of some kind on the other, with a dark green skin. A slab of beef, with a sausage and some fried dough as well. She didn’t know what the fried links were on the plate, and oh Lord _why is everything fried?!_

Following Dead Six to a table, Alice was nervous as she poked at the dish. The rice was the only thing that looked edible, everything else was just so unusual. Making sure none of the Colombians were next to her, she leaned toward Hotwire. “Do all commoners eat this way?”

Hotwire started laughing, almost spitting out her first bite of rice. Collecting herself, the commando turned to Alice. “What are you talking about? This food has to be more than what your working class sees in three months. You’re asking that like this should disgust you?”

Alice paused, then turned to her team. Randel was smiling as wide as her blade was sharp, tearing through the food with abandon. Oreldo was busy eyeing one of the Colombian women, and she wasn’t shy about returning the gesture. Martis watched as the soldiers kicked the ball around. As sudden as it appeared, Alice’s worried vanished. “I guess it shouldn’t. Then why all of this? Shouldn’t they be preparing for the mission?”

“They are.” Turning, Alice saw Deadeye walking up. The lanky Scot looked dour, even with his plate laden down with meats.

Gunner looked up and laughed, grabbing an empty chair. “What, Havoc couldn’t bear to have some fun with other people?”

Deadeye glanced at Alice. “He’s busy, working out a shift in the planning. We’ll learn more tomorrow. He said that if we’re prepared, we can join the Colombians.”

Patch smiled, finishing off half his plate. “Good enough for me. Squints! Come, I’ll teach you soccer!”

Gunner clapped his hands. “Then you and I are on the court Tiny. C’mon, they won’t know how to play defense against ya!”

Watching as her team joined Dead Six, Alice pondered her food. It came so easy to the other teams, this ability to be friends with their men only to bark orders the next. The War College had taught her there was no room for anything but professional cordiality when dealing with the lower ranks. Anything more could disrupt the ability of an officer to do what needed to be done. When ordering men to their deaths, the mere act of even sitting down at the same table with them threatened the commander’s impartiality. Here, she saw Colombian officers and enlisted playing games with and against each other. She saw a Colombian officer laughing at a joke told by one of his men. Something stirred in her, but as she finally started to eat she couldn’t decide what it was.

Parker kept going over the new plan. It could work, he knew that. There was no accounting for MV-9, they’d at least be able to give the justification needed for what Locke would need for the leverage. If it was there, then the Colombians would be one step closer to ending FARC. Hearing the noise from outside, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. Gunner would know enough to bring him a plate anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Alice hauled herself out of bed, gut still heavy from the lunch yesterday. Groaning, she slammed her hand down on the alarm clock next to the bed. Groaning, she shook her head clear and went to clean up for the day. Dressing and pulling on her equipment, she paused when she looked at her dagger. Hotwire’s words rang in her head from yesterday, being warned about what would happen in the jungles if she had it on her. The idea that the ancestral badge of the Malvin family could be stolen, taken from her body as a war trophy? Steeling herself, she put the dagger deep into her pack and went for the door.

She left the barracks and went for the armory. Checking out her rifle, she was issued a small cleaning kit as well. She ringed. Bruiser and Patch had explained cleaning the weapon well enough, but she still hated dealing with it. The stink of the “CLP” oil rankled her, sticking to her skin for hours after.

The unit was formed up in the center of the camp, a company of Colombian soldiers under Capt. Tapia taking up most of the space. Dead Six was on the side, dressed in the mottled camouflage of “jungle warfare”. They wore subdued unit markings, dull-brown GDI eagles on the right arm, the insignia of Dead Six on the left. It was like they weren’t proud of the unit they were in, there was no reason that they couldn’t at least keep their unit markings their proper color in the jungle. Cloth couldn’t give them away that easily.

Gunner smiled on seeing her walk up. “Morning all! Well, ready to go after some bad guys?”

If Alice had been feeling weighed down by the food, her team was still KO’d. Oreldo looked like he couldn’t decide whether he was queasy or exhausted. Martis was barely able to hold his head up, looking like he went three rounds with the reigning heavyweight champ. Even Randel looked like he was still fighting with his gut. Alice didn’t notice that she was the only one even close to straight.

Alice nodded, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Our first stop is Calamar, right?”

Hotwire nodded. “The town has been a staging point for Colombian Army and AUC operations on the Vaupes River and into the rural areas. We’ll assess the situation and prepare for the first strike from there.”

Alice nodded. It was a simple plan, but she was starting to get used to the idea. “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” The Empire’s military training had emphasized the concept of operational integrity, and here it was being followed by the Colombians and GDI. Each part of the operation had a role, and they were going to play to that role. She might have had trouble understanding the obsession they all had with their guns, but she could appreciate their planning.

The problem turned into the wait. It was still two hours before sunrise, and for the next hour they waited for the trucks that would take them. Twice Martis and Oreldo ran for the bathroom, leaving their gear with Randel. The Colombian commandos were more talkative, looking to each other and checking their equipment. Their eyes betrayed them though. They were focused, ready for the mission ahead. Alice had seen their faces before, on the faces of Section I’s Claymore unit. She remembered it when the unit had gone in to train for hostage “rescue” operations. They were the same hard eyes, the same stone faces. These were not soldiers to be taken for fools.

Alice turned to Hotwire. “Can we trust these soldiers to not harm any civilians?”

Hotwire glanced at Tapia. “The captain can keep control. They won’t do anything he doesn’t order.”

Alice didn’t have time to ask any more questions, the trucks rolled up three minutes later. The commandos clambered in, Dead Six and MV-9 getting in to one of the trucks in the center of the column. Loaded up, Alice noticed Deadeye avoiding everyone’s gaze. His eyes looked like the Colombians, but something about his expression seems off.

Parker grinned as he hauled himself into the back of the truck. “Buckle up kids. Roads get bumpy ahead of us.”

The truck jolted, several engines roaring as they pulled out of the camp. Alice gripped the seat, but it was better than the helicopter. Far better. Looking back out of the truck, she watched as the small camp was blocked off by trees. Bruiser started singing, some song about high roads and low roads. Gunner hummed along, rocking with the motions of the truck. Randel smiled, tapping his foot as Bruiser sang. Martis and Oreldo started to pick up a little, not by much but enough to handle the ride.

Parker turned to Alice. “Once we get to Calamar, I want your team to look up a few things in the local government building. Look up businesses in the region, companies who have a major stake in the area. Can you handle that, or does someone need to hold your hand?”

Alice stiffened. She’d grown used to Parker’s way of thinking. He was uncouth, more a wild boar than a soldier. Part of her wondered if all American “Marines” were this way. It wasn’t how Gen. Hammond let his forces act. “How long do I have to collect the information?”

Parker’s lip twitched. If he was smirking, Alice didn’t know why. “The whole day. Then we’re getting some sleep and moving on the first FARC outpost.”

Alice nodded. “We’ll have it ready by then.”

Parker stared at Alice for a moment. Something was in his eyes, but Alice couldn’t see what. Whatever it was, Alice hoped it was something that would be good for the mission.

The truck jumped again, Patch cursing as he almost fell forward. “ _Verdammt!_ Why did the Colombians turn down GDI infrastructure aid?”

Hotwire rolled her eyes. “You read the reports. If it wasn’t FARC kidnapping the surveyors it was protectionist policies.”

Alice looked up. “You mean GDI didn’t step in until now?”

Patch counted on his fingers. “Considering the arrival of Tiberium? Fighting off Nod, and now a global realignment of priorities? I’d say we’ve gotten involved as best we can.”

Alice tried to think of an argument, then settled to look out the back of the truck as the sun started to rise.

* * *

The first thing Alice noticed when they came into the town was the small graveyard on the side of the road. A small rectangle of headstones, with one or two small mausoleums. The road was a little less bumpy, but the truck slowed to a near-walking pace as they drove into Calamar. She saw small adobe houses pass along the road, old women and smaller children watching the truck drive by. Alice saw them wearing the same clothes she’d seen on SG-1’s television shows, but something was different. Their clothes looked more used, worn even. The old women looked on the trucks with suspicion, a look Alice had grown used to. It was a look she’d seen many times by the villages Section III came to.

The trucks finally slowed a few more minutes into the town, Parker motioning them off. Jumping down, Alice scoped out the village. They’d parked in front of a small local government building. The Colombian flag hung off a small wood pole on the front columns. A group of police stood in front of the building, along with men in camouflage. On their left arms, a black brassard with three white letters; AUC.

_Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia_. United Self-Defenses of Colombia.

The men smiled as the trucks rolled up, Tapia walking up to the group. Alice noticed that his smile was as natural as he could make it. They spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, and it was useless when Alice couldn’t even make out a single word. Tapia turned to Dead Six, waving the group over. The leader of the AUC squad was a middle-aged man, built of muscle that had fallen to fat. He sneered at the group as they closed.

Tapia shook the man’s hand, trying to be diplomatic. “Everyone, this is Calamar’s AUC commander. Matias Cardenas. He’s been a key factor in holding the area against FARC for the past four years.”

Cardenas sneered at the teams. “ _Gringos_ , they think they can stop FARC?”

Parker sneered back. “Better than you jackasses have the past twenty years.”

Alice waited for the argument, but Cardenas’ sneer turned into a smile. “I like this one.”

A man in a suit came out of the offices. He looked a few years older than Cardenas, with a more sedate expression as he caught sight of Tapia. More Spanish, but Alice could tell the words were more cordial. Nodding he turned to Dead Six and held out a hand. “Santiago Orozco, mayor of Calamar.”

Alice noticed some of the AUC men laughing. To her relief, Parker was more diplomatic. Well, for Parker. “Have your people been safe enough against FARC?”

Orozco laughed, his thick gray mustache shifting as he spoke. “Safe enough indeed. Three months of, how is it, off-and-on raids? The kidnappings are the worst. They took two more last night, we don’t know where they went.”

Alice tried not to glare at the AUC. “ _Strongmen with no competition, and they can’t even protect their little fief._ ”

Parker nodded. “Patch, take Princess’ team with you to talk to the mayor. We’ll stay here with our fearless heroes here.”

Patch nodded, motioning Alice to follow. The five went into the small municipal building to see it was little more than what the outside showed. A small front desk with an old woman for the secretary. Pictures of the local area through the years, trying to make it look like new farms and logging camps were impressive accomplishments. They might be for the locals, but Alice just saw a village desperate for assistance

The mayor peeked back to make sure none of the AUC had followed them. “What is it you want? That loud _gringo_ does not want Cardenas to know about something.”

Patch nodded. “We needed to see what businesses have been operating in this area. Loggers, miners, anyone with money to make.”

The mayor nodded. “My office is upstairs, this way.”

Alice pieced it together. GDI wasn’t going to ignore the AUC for FARC. Her heart soared. Both bandit groups would be stopped, and the innocent people of Colombia would be able to fight back against their predations. It was a matter of collecting the evidence now.

Orozco looked over his shoulder. “I do not know what you expect to find. We have asked for help for two years, and no one came for us. We lost almost all of our police to kidnapping, and now we get help?”

Alice looked up with determination. “The important thing is that we’re here to help now. We can’t make up for our failure to act but we can help make it right.”

Patch wasn’t so cordial. “Have there been any corporate interests trying to set up in the region?”

Orozco nodded. “A logging company, but they haven’t set up a camp for some time. FARC kept raiding their workers, no one wanted to risk their lives on it. Dole wanted to buy from our farmers, they were driven out as well.”

Patch’s expression darkened. “When did the AUC group come together?”

“A year ago. Cardenas rallied them all together, said they should join because FARC was growing in power. When the news announced Nod had been supporting FARC, they gathered their money and bought the best weapons they could find. They petitioned to join the AUC and were allowed. It all happened in two months.”

Alice had to admit, not aloud at least, that she was somewhat impressed. The militia organizing in such a swift manner? She doubted anyone would be so effective back home. The group could prove their worth yet.

Outside, Parker smiled at Cardenas. “So, where’s the FARC camp?”

Cardenas nodded to the east. “We are sure the camp is placed along the river. Loggers want to move into the region, FARC keeps pushing them out. ‘Not good for the needs of the Colombian people’, they say.” He spat at the words.

Parker nodded, looking to Tapia. “Think you can organize a patrol, get us out there?”

Tapia nodded. “I’ll send a squad to check the area once we’re settled.”

Parker grinned. “Hope they don’t mind company.”

* * *

**Brussels, Belgium**

**GDI Headquarters**

* * *

Gen. Locke watched as SecDef Olivetti went over the proposal. It was ambitious, but so far the man had appreciated ambitious plans. It was part of what had won the war against Nod, GDI’s actions to act aggressively and decisively where Nod strongholds were found.

Olivetti nodded, setting his glasses down on the desk. “ _It’s direct._ ”

“Col. Walton did admit that, sir.”

“ _It’s also dangerous. The report we received regarding these creatures, what they can do to someone’s mind. This is not the same level of risk we’ve seen compared to Nod. The logistical considerations alone could destroy this before it even begins._ ”

Locke nodded. “I understand that sir, but this could at least secure a possible threat. If we can give that universe the time to train up and prepare, we’ll have a force equal to any force Kane could organize. You’ve seen that they are capable of amazing feats, almost god-like.”

“ _They aren’t gods, Locke. I saw where those reports came from, even factoring in that they do exist now. I’ll put this before the Security Council, but I can’t promise you’ll get an answer you’ll like._ ”

“The fact they’ll give the plan any debate is what I need to know sir.”

Olivetti sighed. “ _How are the men in the task force holding up?_ ”

“Better than expected sir. Col. Walton only has a handful who know the entire truth, but he expects that to grow over time. Regardless of controls put in place. He and I both agree that shifting the focus of the task force to support of the MVTF is the best use of resources. GDI is already working alongside various national governments to contain and dismantle Nod-connected terrorist groups. The lending of a task force will show were are committed to aiding the MVTF.”

Olivetti thought for a minute. “ _The Secretary-General has said that the information we’ve received on what Tiberium will become has merit. When will we send the samples to SG-1’s base?_ ”

“As soon as the next reconciliation, sir.”

Olivetti nodded. “ _Very well. I’ll see that Task Force Bat is shifted off rotation to a permanent duty. Remember that we need results, Locke. Too many dead bodies without answers will force my hand._ ”

Locke leaned back as Olivetti shut his camera off. “ _Too many dead bodies is what we’ll have if we don’t start growing our support._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Alice tore through the records. She was a woman possessed, determined to find something in the small hill of paperwork in the office. Martis kept able pace with her, separating the papers into piles depending on what was in them. Oreldo trailed behind, his pile spread out in a messy semicircle before him. He didn’t bother hiding his frustration, but he did at least keep at the files and records. Randel had given up even trying to navigate the files and was getting everyone some coffee.

Patch was up against a wall, looking out a window onto the street. “So how often does FARC come into Calamar?”

Orozco sighed. “Not as a force. We’re too close to your base to have them display their power openly. They do business with the local farmers, trading help in the fields for food and some supplies. The police have no success trying to stop them, the farmers shield them.”

Alice huffed. “Then we need to make these bandits pay for what they’ve done. The sooner we bring down justice on these monsters the better.”

Patch shook his head. Orozco laughed, muttering something in Spanish. “ _Esta gringa imbécil_.”

Alice pursed her lips. It was one thing to have a superior officer, even one like Parker, seeing her as an incompetent because of past mistakes. It was another to hear it from a mayor that couldn’t even control his town. “Sir, if you have a problem with our arrival, that is an issue to take to your leaders.”

Orozco sneered at Alice. “I have a problem with you. Did GDI give you any research on FARC?”

Patch intercepted that. “She’s lived a rather sheltered life. She didn’t even know about FARC until she was assigned this mission.”

Orozco scoffed. “Typical American. FARC are our countrymen, fellow Colombians. They fight because they want to change our country, because of _La Violencia_. The government is trying to punish them, and anyone who is around them. They became bandits because they were given no choice.”

Alice shook her head. “There’s always a choice. FARC could have made a principled stand for their beliefs without resorting to violence. Just because their cause is righteous doesn’t make what they’ve done right.”

Patch glared at Alice and spoke before Orozco could. “It’s easy to say someone else has a choice. Try it when you’re in the same situation.”

Alice was about to try and argue when she noticed Oreldo waving her off. Biting her tongue, she tried to focus on the reports of a logging company that was promised a camp in the region.

* * *

Parker edged forward, not even rustling the dead leaves on the ground. He’d been to Oki years ago, jungle warfare training while he was in the Corps. The key was how you placed your foot. People thought that going tiptoe was the way to keep silent. No, the key was slowly plant your heel. That way you could shift your weight away from making any noise.

The difference here was the Colombian jungle was pretty temperate. On Okinawa, he could remember boiling alive in his cammies just before the docs gave a buddy his “silver bullet” for fainting. They never let the poor bastard live it down.

He kept his dirt-covered rifle ready. He was careful to dirty it just enough to where it wouldn’t give away his position. Not enough to foul the breech or muzzle. Tapia and his people had done the same, and Parker was heartened to see it. He couldn’t say the same of the three AUC “volunteers” Cardenas had ordered to go with the patrol. They stepped on branches and rustled the undergrowth, or held their clean weapons awkwardly as they went. Their gear was loose, clattering every few steps because no one had trained them to wear it properly.

The patrol paced itself, careful not to move too fast. Even on foot, it was easy to miss a disguised position in a jungle environment. The key to this was moving slow, scanning your surroundings, and making sure you didn’t miss anything. He held his hand up, signaling the patrol to halt. Kneeling down, he checked the ground. The dirt was tramped down, worn into a rut. Anyone in the US that wasn’t trained would walk through without noticing. Parker had learned through experience that it was a sign.

He wasn’t some bullshit artist that could tell what direction the patrol had moved from the indents or some other Hollywood bullshit. He could tell it was a definite trail though. There were faded boot prints, and one of the leaves in the undergrowth was green where the rest was browning. It had probably fallen off a FARC fighter’s pack, they preferred to use the forest leaves as camo when moving.

Tapia crept up to Parker. Motioning, Parker pointed to his left. Tapia peered out, then nodded. Turning, Tapia motioned to the location. One of the AUC militia crept up, scanning the area in confusion. Parker rolled his eyes, motioning with his hand to his left. The militiaman followed, then grinned. Parker barely had time to grab the idiot’s weapon before he could fire. The two FARC rebels that hadn’t spotted them would never realize how lucky they got.

Tapia raised his hand and motioned for the patrol to move back. As he let go of the militiaman’s rifle, Parker glared at the fool. The man looked at Parker like he was about to start something, until he saw Parker’s eyes. He nodded and backed away toward the patrol. Scowling, Parker turned and looked past the two sentries. They’d tried to conceal themselves, and they’d almost done it. It was their weapons that gave them away. They were too dark among the leaves and trees. They’d remembered to keep them dull, but hadn’t broken up the outlines. After years in the service, he was used to spotting the shape of an AR.

Making a mental note of where he was, he slipped away from the sentry post.

* * *

The company had set itself up on the west side of the village, putting up some tarps and rolling out their bags. They laughed and smoked as they heated their MREs, laying themselves out or leaning against the trucks. Several were posted in pairs about the perimeter of the small camp, watching for any movements from FARC during the night. Randel and Oreldo would swap out with one of the posts after four hours, but that had been Parker’s decision. Alice and Martis sat away from the group, Alice glaring at the notes she’d made of the paperwork from the mayor’s office. She read over the companies that had tried to move into the region, loggers and developers looking to build and use the region. Driven away by FARC time and time again.

“ _Buenas noches,_ _Princesa._ ” Looking up, Alice saw Tapai walking over, a broad smile on his face. “How did it go with the mayor?”

Alice went back to her notes. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I know we found some information, but all I have is more proof that FARC needs to be stopped.”

Tapia nodded, taking a seat across from Alice on the grass. “I cannot argue with you. FARC has been fighting so long, I don’t think a lot of them can remember why. We pushed them too hard.”

Martis looked up from picking at his alleged brisket. “You mean the government crackdowns?”

Tapia nodded. “The government could have gone gently, promised the people a voice. Instead they crushed dissent, chose the path of civil war.”

Alice stared at Tapia. “You make it sound like you feel sorry for FARC.”

Tapia shrugged. “What I feel doesn’t matter. The sooner we finish this operation, the sooner I can go home.”

Alice’s stare didn’t go away. “You’re a soldier aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be doing everything you can to stop this threat?”

Tapia laughed, then saw the look on Alice’s face. “Wait, you think I want to be out here? You are not serious, who would want to go through the jungle trying to find rebels?”

Martis tried to move in on the situation. “Well it can’t be all bad, right? As soon as we finish this should break FARC’s back.”

Tapia scoffed. “Then Bogota uses the victory to press hard on the peasants, then FARC reforms. All this mission will do is give us time to train up new forces for when FARC rebuilds.”

Alice stared at Tapia as if he’d said that horses were dumb animals. “Isn’t that a flippant attitude to have?

Tapia rolled his eyes. “You are saying you want to be here? I have a woman in Bogota, I would rather be in her bed than out here hunting rebels.”

Alice’s face started to darken, her scowl slowly forming. “A soldier has a duty to stamp out any threats to their country and people. This kind of attitude is what leads to a degradation of morale and good discipline. How a man like you call himself a soldier? You should be doing everything you can to root out these bandits, not acting like you have better things to do.”

Tapia stared at Alice, looking like he was trying to figure out if she was real or a hallucination. He looked like he was about to say something, until he rose and walked off. Alice glared at him as he walked off, then went back to her notes. Martis looked between both, then went back to his food with a sigh.

Parker didn’t look up from where he was laying. “Need something?”

Tapia sighed. “That woman, Princess? Is there something wrong with her?”

Parker laughed, harder than Tapia expected. “You’ve got no idea. What, she went off on you for something?”

“How did you-Yes, she did. Did she have any briefing on FARC? She’s acting like we’re going up against criminals, not believers.”

Parker shrugged. “She’s a believer.”

Realization dawned in Tapia’s voice. “I thought GDI commando training beat that out of you.”

Parker held himself back from a jab that could get them all in trouble. “Guess the standards were relaxed. Needed numbers against Kane.”

Tapia glanced back to Alice. “Then someone needs to set her down. She’s going to get someone killed.”

Parker grunted. “She isn’t a total idiot. She just needs to step up to the plate. She’ll understand what the game is once we’re finished.”

Tapia’s eyebrow went up. “She does not know what the ending will be?” Parker shook his head. Tapia turned to stare at Alice again, glaring down at her notebook.

“We’ll hit the camp tomorrow night, make it look like we’re getting ready to leave tomorrow afternoon. I want the AUC to be our distraction, can your people handle that?”

Tapia nodded. “How long of a distraction do you need?”

Parker thought for a second. “Give me five hours to get my team in position, twenty minutes after that to strike the camp. How long do you think you can keep the militia in the fight?”

Tapia shrugged. “I give them ten, fifteen minutes at the most. We can carry on until you give us the signal to stop.”

Parker grinned. “Keep some of the AUC and local cops on the side, they can handle the prisoners. Leave a squad behind when we move, make sure nothing else happens.”

Tapia shook his head. “You really think it can be this simple?”

Parker shrugged. “Why, FARC expecting us?”

* * *

The next afternoon, Alice checked that her rifle was ready. Chambering a round, she watched as Tapia conferred with Cardenas and the militia. Mayor Orozco and the three police watched from the village office, glaring down at the entire gaggle like they knew something was going to happen that would make their lives a fresher hell than the last.

Tapia was talking to them all in Spanish, leaving Dead Six to the side to listen to Parker go off on his own tangent. “Okay, we’ve got five hours to gear into positions to the north of the FARC position. We’ll get in one of the farmer’s trucks, one of Tapia’s people will make sure he won’t say anything. Once we’re in position, we hold until Tapia’s company starts firing before we move on the camp. Once we’re sure FARC is engaged, we’ll move in and secure the area. Until they’re confirmed not a threat, you don’t take any chances. Questions?”

Alice held up a hand, high and proud like she was trying out to be a flagpole. “Sir, are you sure you can trust Capt. Tapia-”

“Yes, any not-stupid questions?”

Randel was sheepish as he held up his hand. “Sir, uh, what do you mean by ‘not a threat’?”

Parker’s demeanor changed, from bitter to gruff in a half-second. “If they’ve still got their hand on a weapon or they’re able to put up a fight, they’re a threat. Until the area is secured, don’t risk trying to take prisoners. Understand? Alright, standby.”

Alice watched as Parker walked to Tapia, then turned to see Randel looking down at her. “Are you alright lieutenant?”

Taking stock of herself, Alice nodded. “I’m fine corporal. I suppose I’m still trying to get used to Capt. P-” Alice mumbled as Patch clamped a hand over her mouth. She glared at him, until she saw Dead Six glaring back at her. She gave Patch a nod, and turned back to Randel. “I’m still trying to get used to Havoc’s way of doing things.”

Gunner stepped forward, staring down at Alice. “You’d best get used to it. Once we’re in those trees, he’ll be the one that gives the orders. If you want to live to see home, you’d best do what he says when he says it.”

Alice kept her face neutral as Parker came back. “Alright, everyone better be ready. This hike’s gonna suck.”

* * *

The next few hours ticked by with the kind of sloth that usually comes with government bureaucracy. Deadeye was in the front, eyes scanning the brush as the “point”. The rest of the team was spread out ever few meters, staggered to avoid any booby traps they somehow missed.

Alice tried to walk with certainty, but the uneven ground kept throwing off her balance. Even moving with a deliberate pace, she still rustled the leaves around her. Her harness felt tight enough that it threatened to cut into her. She couldn’t understand how Dead Six could do anything with equipment like this. She wondered how her grandfather had managed to fight in terrain like this, skulking through the jungles unable to even see where the enemy waited for them. It only reinforced her belief that FARC were nothing but bandits. She had paid attention to the briefings, and careful attention to their claims they were fighting for a just cause. People fighting for justice didn’t skulk in the wilds like animals, striking at innocent people who could find a better life in work. The people fighting them shouldn’t be forced to do the same to stop them.

As she moved ahead, she glared at the back of Parker’s head. The man wasn’t just rude, he was dangerous. He was a brute that claimed to be a soldier. She could accept that she’d made a mistake in Fiore, she could admit that. Failing to evacuate the jail and losing her weapon, it was her failure. The fact that he couldn’t leave that be so many months after was ridiculous. She’d performed ably since, stopping the slavery in Erdegeboren and saving the people there when MV-1 had struggled to act. Why didn’t Parker see that part of her service?

Parker wasn’t thinking about any of that. He also wasn’t thinking about finding Kane or getting into the multiverse to search. He didn’t even think about how the Phils were doing in their series against Chicago right now. His focus was on the objective in front of him. Each step was cautious, measured, planned. His eyes swept the ground for anything out of place. His trigger finger wasn’t on the trigger, he wasn’t going to risk even a chance of giving the position away. He wouldn’t think of leading the movement though. Deadeye was the one he trusted to have the best eyes at rooting out anything to beware of.

Something caught Alice’s eye. A glint of light, a few yards in the distance. She held up a fist and took a knee, staring toward what she saw. Her team froze, then did the same. As their line came to a halt, Alice started to see the shapes in the trees. Two FARC rebels, a man and a woman. The woman was the one who caught her attention, she was wearing small gold hoop earrings.

Movement to the side. She saw Parker and Deadeye moving toward the two rebels. They moved like wolves, slinking toward their prey like phantoms in the brush. Then she noticed movement to her right. She turned and saw Randel raising his rifle, eyes wide as he brought the sights up. Alice couldn’t shake the idea that something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite connect what it was. Shaking off the sensation, she turned back to see where Parker was. Or she would have, if Parker and Deadeye hadn’t melted into the trees.

The two FARC rebels scanned the jungle. They weren’t idiots, talking and joking and treating their post like a joke. They knew that the Colombian Army could choose to strike at any moment, especially with a detachment of troops in the village. The AUC fools might feel emboldened enough to make a strike on a friendly farmer, forcing FARC to make some form of response.

The man scanned the small path they’d made over the years, a half-worn “game trail” of a path that successive FARC camps had used as a route through the trees. The woman looked into the trees, trying to be prepared for any commander that would try to be clever. It wasn’t impossible to move troops through the trees, but a detachment sizable enough to be effective in a strike at the camp wouldn’t be so quiet.

It happened when the man turned his head away, tapping the ash off his cigarette. He didn’t see Deadeye drive a blade into the woman’s throat, clamping down on her mouth. He didn’t notice that the shadows shifted as Parker came up behind him. Or the knife slipping to the perfect space where the blade could slip between his shoulder and jaw. His last few seconds of conscious thought were instinctual panic, trying to figure out who had clamped their hand over his mouth and why his partner wasn’t raising the alarm.

Parker came back five minutes later, he and Deadeye returning to the front of the line and moving forward again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Tapia scanned the jungle. There were three FARC watch positions. The one he was in front of had three rebels scanning the jungle. Though two of them apparently had something more vital to talk about as they lit up. To his left, Cardenas and his militia waited with a mix of anticipation and fear. Cardenas had the look of a man desperate to look like he needed to prove himself to someone that called him a coward. His eyes were locked on the FARC position, but they weren’t focused. He was just glaring ahead, knuckles white as they gripped his rifle.

Tapia was focused. He saw two of them had ARs, the other had an old German MP 40. The least dangerous one was the MP 40, the other two were the actual threat. If Cardenas was worth a damn he’d know that too. He checked his watch, two minutes left.

Cardenas and his militia said they understood the plan, at least the plan Tapia had told them. As far as the local AUC was concerned, their job was to take out the three sentry posts and strike the camp. What Tapia hadn’t told them was that his company wasn’t going to be their most effective. They were going to draw the rebels into the jungle, let the commandos slip in and strike the camp proper. If anything went wrong, his company could move in and save the commandos.

[One minute.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_zi74u-_B8) He took one last look along his line. His people were ready, concealed and waiting with sights on target. Their gear was tightened against their bodies, loose straps and metal joints covered in black electrical tape. The AUC were ready too, or at least as ready as they could be. They had better rifles and equipment than the rebels, but they all handled it like the amateurs they were. Some of them didn’t even have their rifles up. Others had loose harnesses or exposed ammo belts. With the M-60s they carried, it would only mean jam after jam from the dirt and moisture.

Twenty seconds. Tapia nodded to Cardenas and raised his rifle. He sighted on one of the two with their ARs and counted down. Three, two, one…

“ _Fuego!_ ”

Fire ripped through the brush. The difference was in bearing. His company were all in cover, still, rifles firing in disciplined bursts. The AUC either flinched with every shot or let rip on full-auto. To their credit, they did recognize which ones were the immediate threats. One of the rebels went down in a hail of blood and lead. The other took two rounds to his left arm, but ducked behind a thicker tree. He managed to pull himself together and fire back seconds later, propping his rifle up on his left knee. They missed the one with the SMG, the weapon chattering through the firefight under the crack of the rifles. Tapia put his sights on the man and fired. Three shots struck the tree and dirt around him, forcing him to duck behind cover.

He heard calls deeper in the trees, back toward where the camp should be. Taking a breath, he ignored the sound of two rounds passing next to his left ear and sighted in just beyond the two sentries. When he saw a rebel break through, he fired. Catching the man through the head, he shifted his aim.

* * *

Parker signaled for them to move the second they heard the rifle fire. Alice leapt up and ran alongside the commandos. Stealth wasn’t the objective now, they were engaged. Then she instinctively reached for her dagger. “ _No, it’s in your pack! Use this stupid rifle, otherwise you’ll give Capt. Parker another reason to hate you!_ ”

Charging through the jungle, she saw Parker and Deadeye leading the charge. Even at a sprint they managed to clear the jungle like they were native animals. As they broke through the trees, Alice saw a small collection of small makeshift huts and lean-tos in a small clearing. She could see several rebels at the edges of the camp, brandishing their weapons looking toward the gunfire. They were older, with big thick mustaches or full beards. One of them was on a radio, calling out to possible friendlies in the area. Three of them conferred at a blackboard under a wooden pavilion, sketching out the fight with Xs and Os.

Deadeye raised his sniper rifle and fired. The round took out the radioman, who fell into the radio. The gear collapsed into the dirt, Alice hearing the static coming from the speakers. Two of the rebels tried to fire back, but they missed by ten yards. Hotwire and Bruiser cut them both down, as Parker, Gunner, and Patch ran into the camp. They took cover behind what looked like a large lean-to filled with bunk beds.

The rebels started to pick up on where the team was coming from, rounds splintering the trees around Alice.

Oreldo and Martis leaned from behind cover and started firing along with Dead Six. Randel gritted his teeth and joined, even with the frightened look in his eye. Alice took a breath and leaned around her tree. She sighted in on one of the rebels, a man with thick glasses and a black beard. He was calling out orders to two of his comrades, pointing to where Tapia and his company were. Alice tried to squeeze the trigger, but another round just next to her made her tighten up. The round flew off, and the rebel kept calling out orders. She tried again, but she jerked the rifle as she fired. She fired again, and again, and again. None of the rounds struck the man.

She saw Parker pop up, fire a round, drop the man, then duck back into cover before anyone could fire back.

Parker turned. “Princess, take yours and move right! Cut’em off!”

Alice turned, pointing to her team. “Shift right, shift right!”

The four moved through the trees, hearing the rebels call out and try to move to make their escape. Alice saw one of them sprinting toward her, rifle up and ready to fire. Alice ducked behind her tree, splinters flying jut in front of her. Martis was on it, dropping the man with three rounds to the chest. “Are you alright?”

Alice brushed her face off. “Fine! Don’t let any of them escape!”

There was a crump, followed by screams. Leaning out, Alice saw a plume of smoke in the middle of the camp. Patch sprinted to the center of the camp, sliding into the small pavilion with the blackboard in it. Rounds tore up the blackboard, until the rest of Dead Six drew the fire away. Alice saw two of the rebels coming in toward her team, firing wild as they ran. Alice fired back, and again her rounds hit anything but the rebels.

Oreldo was more accurate, dropping one and wounding the other. The man screamed out, clutching at his shattered right hip. He rolled on the ground, cursing in Spanish as he tried to grab his rifle. That was when Randel sprinted out of cover. To Alice’s shock, he ran to the man and kicked the rifle away. Laying down over him, Randel returned fire into the jungle. Alice gritted her teeth and fired at the rifle flashes, Randel taking the chance to pull the wounded man behind cover.

Alice heard the gunfire ahead of them start to taper off. The screams of the wounded man were louder now, Randel grimacing as he tried to figure out what to do. Patch ran over and pushed Randel away. He pulled out a first aid kit, telling Randel to keep the man still as the wound was bandaged.

Parker ran out from his cover. “Gunner, Bruiser, police the bodies! Deadeye, Hotwire, make sure no one’s coming our way! Princess, your team on the rear!”

Alice nodded, turning to Oreldo and Martis. “Keep watch on the trail, there might have been other sentries we didn’t see. I’ll…I’ll check on the camp.”

Going into the camp, Alice was surprised at just how much was in it. The central pavilion had some kind of electronic device in it, a pair of silver box with black mesh on them. In the center a third silver box, with a pair of dials and set of buttons on it. In the bunks, there were family pictures and civilian clothes scattered among the beds. A Colombian flag on a makeshift pole stood in the center of the camp, like it completed the idea that FARC was an actual fighting force.

“Hey!” Spinning around, Alice saw Parker storming up to her. “What the fuck are you going, get to the rear and keep watch!”

Alice started to open her mouth, then Parker grabbed her harness and hauled her back to Oreldo and Martis. “Keep fucking watch you idiot!”

Shaken into compliance, Alice went to the nearest thick tree and kept watch on the forest.

Parker knelt next to Patch and Randel. “How’s he look?”

Patch packed the gauze into the wound. “He won’t bleed out if we get him to the medics, but he won’t walk right for the rest of his life unless he gets to a real hospital.”

Parker nodded, then turned to Randel. “The fuck were you thinking?”

Randel looked up, his eyes fearful. Parker sighed and shook his head. “You didn’t want him dead.” Randel nodded, the fear edging out of his gaze. “Look, next time wait for someone to call the all clear. Least you got us a prisoner.”

Three minutes later, Tapia and a squad charged forward. “Havoc!”

Parker looked up, grinning. “Got a prisoner, how’d it go on your end?”

Tapia nodded back to where he came. “Cardenas and the AUC took some losses, my company is operational.”

Parker gave a thumbs up and turned to Gunner. “What’ve we got?”

“Three wounded, one won’t last.”

Tapia nodded, then started shouting orders to one of his soldiers. The man ran up with a bulkier medkit and set to work. The Colombians spread out through the camp, securing the weapons as one of them radioed out. Parker went back to Patch, the FARC rebel grunting as his body started to pump enough endorphins to dull the worst of the pain. Kneeling down, Parker glared into the man’s eyes. The rebel glared back, defiant even as he was captured. Parker grinned, then walked back to Tapia. “Call it in, first camp down.”

* * *

There had been survivors from the main firefight, herded to the outskirts of the town as Tapia conferred with the police. Cardenas had survived, but he’d lost a few men. The AUC were shaken, it was obvious in their eyes. Tapia had ordered his people to guard the rebels along with the local police. They’d already radioed the Colombian command, and Randel had heard Parker mention a convoy coming to get the survivors.

The biggest problem, to him, was his lieutenant. Alice stood by the river, staring at nothing across the water. She hadn’t said much of anything except a few orders since they’d left the camp, and for her that was like a District Zero whore that hadn’t taken a customer in two days. “Do you think she’s alright?”

Oreldo shrugged, field stripping his rifle. “He wasn’t wrong, she was ordered to keep watch on the rear.”

Randel nodded. “I know, it’s just…I mean look at her. That’s not normal, her being this quiet.”

Martis nodded. “He’s right Or-He’s right Chaser, it’s almost like he has it out for her.”

Oreldo shook his head. “So he’s trying to make her quit?”

“That’s not his style.” The three turned to see Gunner walking over, carrying some water. “If Havoc wanted her out, she’d be back on the trucks bound for the airport.”

Randel looked up from loading his magazines. “Then why’s he acting like this to her? Isn’t she just trying to learn how things work?”

Gunner grinned at Randel. “You three learned.”

Randel blinked. “Well, I mean we did, but…”

“She went wandering through a camp that wasn’t secured, after she’d been given orders to watch the rear. Havoc could have her on charges if he wanted, and be within his rights.”

Randel looked at Alice, still staring across the river, then back to Gunner. “So why isn’t he trying to teach her?”

“Who taught you? I think the question we need to ask is why she’s having trouble learning.” Patting Randel on the shoulder, Gunner walked toward Alice.

Alice didn’t notice as the large Brit hit the ground next to her with a grunt. “Y’okay?”

Alice said nothing for a few moments. “He’s a hard man.”

Gunner laughed. “Right, they don’t have Marines where you’re from.”

Alice shook her head. “I thought Section I were devoted soldiers, but he’s different. One moment he’s flippant with Capt. Campbell, then he’s carrying Korra to safety. He’s willing to mock MV-8 until he comforts them for failing.”

Gunner shrugged. “Havoc has his own way of working. No one said it’s easy to be around.”

Alice stared at the ground. “Well he’s certainly not a soldier.”

That got Gunner laughing. “He’d take that as a compliment. He is a Marine.”

“I don’t care what his title is. He’s supposed to be an officer. He’s supposed to set an example, and so far all he’s done is act like a brute. At least MV-3’s captain is willing to work with us. If he doesn’t want us here, he should just send us back.”

“Well we don’t have a choice. Our orders were to use your team with this mission. So we can’t send you back.” Standing up, Gunner stretched out as the sound of motors drifted in from upstream. “Some of us have to work with people we can’t stand. Valuable skill to have in this line of work. You’d best learn it.”

Alice was left staring at the dirt as the boats came up to the dock in the twilight sun.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

The trip down the river had taken all day, riding on the fast boats bristling with guns. The river had more bends than a silly straw, and the speed Parker wanted them going didn’t help Alice’s stomach. She’d been on boats before, small little paddle boats as a girl, but she’d never had the stomach for them. Something about bobbing up and down on the water instead of having two feet planted firmly on the ground? It set her stomach to doing flips.

Randel had taken almost all the space on his boat up, sitting quiet in the center moving as little as possible. Getting on the boat threatened to sink it, they’d been forced to take three of the man aboard off just to keep buoyant. The rest of the team were spread out with Tapia’s company, moving through the river watching for a FARC ambush. The machine guns scanned the banks and trees, the Colombians alert for any movement.

Gunner had taken the helm of one of the boats two hours into the journey. Soon he was at the lead, using his boat like it was an extension of his body. Alice was thankful she wasn’t on it, the craft rocking left and right, speeding down the water, threatened to heave her breakfast more than once. By the time they pulled onto the shore on Miraflores, the sun was setting. The local AUC were already there. Alice noticed they were gruffer than the ones before. Their uniforms were worn, their eyes harder than the ones back in Calamar.

Tapia spoke to them in Spanish before turning to Parker. “This is Cuadrado, leader of the AUC in Miraflores. He said he has questions about what happened in Calamar.”

Parker’s eyebrow went up. “What kinda questions?”

More Spanish. “He wants to know why Cardenas’ men took the loses they did.”

Dead Six looked bored as Parker answered. “Because Cardenas didn’t know what he was doing, just that he got nice toys every few months from people who wanted him to.”

Tapia said something, but Alice doubted it was what Parker said. Cuadrado nodded and gave an order to his men. They scattered, moving back into the town. Tapia grinned as he turned back to Parker. “What now?”

“Get everyone checked out, we’ll scout tomorrow morning and pinpoint the stronghold.”

As Tapia went to his men, Alice turned to her team. “Are you all alright?”

Oreldo shrugged. “Being cramped up on the boat didn’t exactly do me much good.”

Alice smiled, just a little but it was a smile. “All of you have something to eat, I’ll talk with Capt. Tapia about tomorrow.”

As Alice walked to Tapia, Dead Six watched her from their claim on the shore. Gunner smiled as she checked to see her team eating before going to the captain. “She’s learning.”

“She’s taking too long.” Hotwire started stripping down her carbine. “She didn’t wait for the area to get secured before she went about the camp.”

Gunner sighed. “She’s still learning. You can’t expect her to overturn everything she ever learned about soldering.”

Hotwire started on the receiver, putting the bolt group into her cover. Even a small layer of dust could jam the weapon, and the last thing she needed was to lose her weapon in a firefight. “So you trust her to have your back?”

As Gunner went silent, Bruiser took up the conversation. “Well, what do we have on the record?”

“Enough,” Patch said, taking apart his own weapon. “The companies in Calamar matched with what we found on the record in Bogota. If we make the same finds here, we’ll need to prepare for Mitu.” Everyone glanced at Deadeye.

Gunner sighed, laying back in the grass. “He’s still coming down to hard. I read what happened in Amestris. She’ll break if we aren’t careful.”

Bruiser laughed. “Maybe she needs to break a little more. We all heard Patch talking about how she was talking in the mayor’s office in Calamar. I’m bloody astounded she hasn’t gotten anyone killed yet.”

The German scowled at the Scot. “I said she was talking like an ideologue. She’s still isolated. You read the…’reports’ from Rainbow. She still thinks worlds work on honor and dignity.”

Hotwire shook her head. “Her nation just got through their World War I, and she still believes that. Her grandfather is going to get her killed.”

“They just need a few beheadings,” Gunner said, grinning. “Clean off a few noble necks and the ones that’re left realize they need to lead instead of demand. You just need to stop before you get as far as the French did.”

Hotwire rolled her eyes. “She’s going to find out what our second objective is. If we don’t tell her-”

“We keep operational security intact.” Patch glared at Hotwire. “She’s not down to our level yet.”

* * *

The next day Alice and her team were in the municipal building for Miraflores, gathering information on more companies that wanted to move in on the area. There were some familiar names from Calamar, logging and agriculture companies that were pushing to move into the region. There were private citizens too, asking for grazing land for livestock.

Patch read over the information with them, but kept looking up from his papers at Alice. After three hours he finally said something. “So. Your _großvater_ , he’s important to you.”

Alice smiled, looking up at Patch. “He is. He’s the one who inspired me to join the military.”

Patch nodded, flipping through some more papers. “He was a knight?”

Alice nodded. “He fought in the Nebulo War, before the formation of the Nebulo Union as we know it. He was at the Battle of Vandesmont, part of the force that stopped the enemy army from seizing the port and cutting off the supplies. He always said that battle was the one that made him realize the duty of a knight.”

Patch’s eyebrow went up. “What was the unit he led?”

“He was a company commander of the 21st Emperor’s Light Horse. He-”

“Fellow nobles?”

Alice nodded. “Yes, they were all noblemen who joined the war when hostilities were declared.”

“What other units were part of the battle?”

Alice thought for a moment. “There was the 5th Rifles, the 9th Foot Infantry-”

“All noble units?”

Alice shook her head. “The officers were, but that’s how the Empire decided on officer roles back then.”

Patch’s eyebrows went up. “So the Empire doesn’t prevent non-nobles from rising in rank?”

Alice smiled. “You expected me to say something else, didn’t you? The Empire realized that restricting the officer ranks to nobles alone would make for stagnation among the higher ranks. It was decreed that any individual of good standing, so long as they meet all necessary qualifications, will be made officers.”

Patch nodded, satisfied with the answer. “You’re right, I am impressed. Most of us thought the Empire was a bunch of hidebound fools. Hearing this, maybe we were wrong.” Patch thought he was going to jump back into his papers, until he saw the looks Oreldo and Martis were giving each other.

Two hours later, the group was breaking for lunch. Alice was already shuddering, thinking about the idea of having another helping of food more fried than a convict in Sing Sing in the 1920s. Walking out, Patch motioned to Oreldo and Martis. The two glanced at each other before walking up to Patch. Rubbing his eyes, Patch leaned against the doorway. “I saw those expressions. Care to explain?”

Oreldo groaned. “She’s not wrong, technically everyone can become an officer if they meet the qualifications. That’s how we both got where we are.”

Patch looked between the two. “But?”

Martis took over. “Neither one of us had the money or connections to actually make it past the rank of sub-lieutenant. The ones that have the money? They wind up like Lt. Webner, our friend in the vehicle section. She’s got the rank, but she’s got no way to ever advance unless she scrapes and grovels.”

Patch sighed. “She doesn’t realize it.”

Oreldo nodded. “Look, you guys have got to ease up on the lieutenant. She already broke in Amestris, and Havoc’s gonna have her going for another here.”

Patch shook his head. “So why is it you three adapted? You three came from the same world she did, but she’s the only one we have issue with.”

Martis stepped forward. “Why?”

Patch’s face went from annoyed to confused and annoyed. “Let me go over this, just so we’re all clear. You four are on the same team. Yourselves, the subordinate members of the unit, have so far done well. You’ve adapted, you’ve accepted, you’ve understood what’s expected of this unit and what comes with it. Correct?”

Both men nodded. “Meanwhile, your commanding officer in the field continues to exhibit signs that she either fails to understand that these deployments are not in her home. Or she’s refusing to take actions that would assist her operations in her home, despite having the ability to request guidance and assistance from the other task force members. She has a literal in with a source from this conspiracy, has she devised a plan to utilize him? What has she done in the time since her last MV mission to go against this threat?”

Neither man said anything. Patch nodded as he started walking to lunch. “Tell me, how are officers trained in the Empire?”

Oreldo laughed. “Trained? They go through a three-month course of learning how to wear uniforms and fence.”

“They don’t receive combat training?”

Martis shook his head. “They’re not required to, no. It depends on the instructor of the class-”

Patch started to storm down the hall now. “No wonder she can’t fire a weapon worth a damn.”

Martis and Oreldo started to fall behind, Martis speaking up again. “You haven’t-”

Patch turned back with a warning glance. “I haven’t what? Seen her in action? I did. She was given an order and she didn’t obey it. There weren’t circumstances, like when Tiny saved the prisoner. She would have known that there was a need to keep the area secure in case of counter-attack. Failures compounding failures. She failed to clear the jail in time in Hargeon, and now she’s failing to grasp how complicated this conflict is. She’s still thinking bandits and knights, the rest of us are focused on terrorists and extremism.”

Oreldo’s face hardened, and he cut Patch off at the stairs. “Then what’s she supposed to do?”

Patch glared back at Oreldo. “Open her eyes.”

Before Patch could go to the stairs, Gunner was walking up. “Perfect, there you lot are. Havoc just gave the word, we’ve got a patrol to make tomorrow. Small village to the north, the AUC want us to help see if they’re safe before we strike the FARC camp.”

Patch nodded. “Did you already tell Princess and Tiny?”

Gunner nodded. “Princess jumped at it. Think she’s excited to show she’s got something worth showing.”

Martis scowled. “Maybe she doesn’t and neither one of you have seen it?”

Patch shrugged, holding up his notes from the session. “So far she’s been an expert with the files.”

* * *

As morning stretched to afternoon, Alice looked up from her investigating to hear Capt. Tapia talking to someone. At first she wondered why there wasn’t anyone talking back until she guessed it was over the phone. He was animated as he spoke, pausing every few seconds in what sounded like apologies. Another five minutes, he was done and hanging up.

Alice waited another few seconds. “Is everything alright?”

Tapia shook his head. “ _Senor_ Mejia, calling for updates. He thinks we are moving too slow against FARC.”

Alice blinked. “Isn’t FARC spread through the entire south of the country? How fast does he expect us to clear the way for the main assault?”

Tapia groaned, falling into an empty seat. “In time for a re-election speech in Mitu.”

Alice skipped a mental beat. “He wants us to increase the pace on a military operation for his re-election? He knows we have to strike the three strongholds, right?” Tapia nodded.

Oreldo threw his papers on the table and rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”

Alice shot him a look before turning back to Tapia. “Why is he so concerned about the speed of this operation? He knows there’s a follow-up with the Colombian Army?”

“He was the one who told the high command that this plan would find support in the Senate.” Tapia shrugged. “Everyone expects him to announce a campaign for the presidency when this is over. He can claim that he was the one who authorized the campaign against FARC that finally broke their ability to act.”

Alice took on a look of smug satisfaction. Patch noted it, then looked to Tapia. “And I presume the good senator has been pressing very hard for economic development?”

Tapia nodded. “He wants to turn the lowlands in the Amazon to farming, turn Colombia into an agriculture exporter…” Tapia trailed off, but when he looked at Alice he kept quiet.

“He also speaks highly of the AUC?”

Tapia’s face hardened. Standing up, he went to a pile of old newspapers they pulled from the archives. “Here. He made a speech a some weeks ago, about the ‘average Colombian’.”

Alice looked at the paper as it landed on the table. Mejia pounding on a podium covered in microphones in front of the Colombian flag. “What does the headline say?”

Tapia shook his head. “Mejia Rails Against FARC; Calls for Colombia to Fight.”

Alice smiled. “At least he wants to try to set things right. Once FARC is eliminated, the AUC has no reason to exist.”

Tapia shrugged, standing up and stretching. “Patch, can you help me downstairs?”

Following Tapia downstairs, Patch took a breath as Tapia turned back with a glare. “Do you need to ask me?”

Tapia was silent, then, “Who authorized it?”

“GDI command was in communication with Bogota since our arrival in-country.”

Tapia blinked. “Your…You killed Escobar…”

“And the leaders of the Cali, Norte del Valle, and North Coast cartels. Which your police were able to take credit for.”

Tapia’s jaw tightened. “Bogota knows?” Patch nodded. “Then why, why the evidence?”

Patch glanced back up the stairs, then back at Tapia. “In case we’re wrong. Are we wrong?”

Tapia turned away and started to pace. Then he paused and stared at Patch in fear. “You are telling me this…”

Patch waved it off. “We were given your name off an approved list by the Army. You and your company met all the criteria we needed.”

Tapia took a breath. “What qualified us?”

“You want this to end.”

Tapia gave a slow nod. “My men don’t need to know.”

Patch grinned. “Neither does Princess.”

Tapia sighed. “Where did you find her? There is no possible way she graduated commando training unless GDI lowered their standards to allow it.”

Patch grimaced, looking away. “Maybe one day I can tell you.”

One of Tapia’s man crashed through the doors, going ten miles a second before Tapia turned to Patch. “Trouble, the AUC at the hospital.”

Patch sprinted alongside Tapia, a little faster actually. He ignored the sights of the town, along with the people calling out asking what was happening. Patch had already studied the map of the village, he knew the most direct way to the hospital was to run straight from the town’s municipal building to the bush airstrip and turn right.

Ten minutes of sprinting later, Patch and Tapia ran up on the AUC arguing with Tapia’s men. A sergeant moved to Tapia and Patch, going on about something until Tapia waved him back to keep the AUC out of the hospital. “There are farmers in there, men the AUC claim support FARC.”

Patch nodded. “They want to make them talk before we go on the patrol.”

Tapia nodded. “I’ll try to convince them otherwise. Stay here, in case I need your help.”

Patch went back to watching, seeing Tapia and Cuadrado argue for five minutes. Cuadrado was angry at first, then his face changed. He stared at Tapia in disbelief, pointing back into the hospital then at Tapia. Cuadrado slammed his finger into Tapia’s chest, Tapia pushing his hand away and pointing back. Cuadrado argued again by grabbing the Colombian flag on Tapia’s uniform. Tapia answered by shoving Cuadrado away. Shouting orders, the Tapia organized the soldiers outside the hospital and pushed the AUC away.

Patch walked up, Cuadrado gathering his men together closer to the airstrip. Giving further orders to his men, Tapia made his way to Patch. “FARC will know about this.”

Patch shook his head. “We still have to make the patrol. Give Havoc and Deadeye the time they need to find the camp.”

Tapia grimaced. “Then _Princesa_ better be able to face death.”

Patch looked back to Cuadrado, the AUC glaring at Tapia and his men. “I know she can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Still picking away at the story, just wanted to throw something out. I'd love to see what you guys imagine these stories look like. If any of you have done any art, I'd love to see it. Feel free to send it to Discord, Flyboy254#8112, or let everyone know in the comments so they can see it!
> 
> Stay tuned, more on the way!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Alice sighed as she looked up. The clouds were already heavy overhead, turning what had so far been a clear trip dour. It was already drizzling, the brim of her “boonie” cover starting to sag. The Colombians didn’t look enthused either, standing in the grass north of the town in their squads. It wasn’t a hard, driving rain, and the forecast said it would clear up soon. That was little comfort to Alice as the water soaked through the fabric.

Gunner and Tapia stood at the head of the company, going over a map of the area north of Miraflores a final time before moving. Alice had seen the map yesterday, and had the route in her head. They were going to follow the dirt road leading north from Miraflores to a small crossroads village thirteen kilometers away. One platoon would hold there, the rest would sweep in a rough mile around it. Then the teams would regroup and fall back to the village. The plan was that Parker and Deadeye would have made their reconnaissance and return with the location of the FARC compound.

Martis sighed, trying to wipe his glasses clear. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Everything’s happened to us but getting rained on.”

Oreldo groaned. “Don’t, we don’t know what can happen now. Might be that us getting shot could be a good thing. When you think about what might be out there?”

Alice turned to Oreldo. “This isn’t the appropriate time to be talking about what might be out there. We need to be ready for the patrol. Now, are you all full from breakfast?”

Randel smiled, patting his belly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“All your weapons are ready?” The trio nodded. “We all have enough socks?”

Randel nodded. “Do you think we can ask about a specific, uh, ‘storage system’ for them?”

Martis smiled up at Randel. “That’s a pretty good idea. It’d be handy to have some extra sets of clothes in them.”

Gunner came up behind the team. “Everyone ready?”

Alice nodded. “Everyone’s ready s-Gunner, just waiting on the order.”

Gunner nodded. “Alright, get yourselves to the center of the line. If something happens to the rear, we want to be able to respond.”

As Alice led her team to the center, spacing themselves out in the line, Tapia called out orders. Steeling herself as the rain started to seep onto her undershirt, Alice started moving.

The Colombians were moving well, the company spaced out along the road. Alice scanned the area around her, admiring the sight of the forest along the way. The lowland had an ethereal quality in the rain, the distance concealed behind the haze in a fading gray. The entire landscape looked like a distant part of a dream, Alice half-tempted to make plans with her horse. To take leave and pack her supplies, to ride the forests and see all she could. No fear of Parker coming down on her actions as an officer. A chance to not think about her own life and explore a little. She’d been thinking about Capt. Havoc’s words, about having her own life outside of the military. He wasn’t wrong, taking time off when she had it to ride and practice her swordsmanship had done wonders. It had taken her mind away from thoughts of the conspiracy, of her fiancé and his machinations against her.

Martis was more focused on the immediate area around him. The rain wasn’t coming down on his glasses anymore, but still diffused the light from the distance. There could be FARC patrols in the trees, waiting to ambush that they’d never know about. They’d lose a good portion of the company if they weren’t careful, and the entire operation would be scrapped. Then they’d have to explain to Gen. Hammond what happened.

Randel was the most alert. His eyes scanned the trees and low brush for any movement. He’d made sure his rifle was well-cleaned the night before, but when he saw the rain he found more “CLP” and added it to his bolt housing group. It was comforting, knowing that gun oil was the same no matter the universe. He saw the Colombians doing the same, scanning the trees with focused eyes. Every few seconds someone would turn and check the rear. Making sure that FARC wasn’t about to ambush them from behind. The difference was how green everything was. He didn’t consciously realize it, but it was different from the battlefields he knew. There wasn’t endless fields of mud on the horizon. There was an actual forest, not a few dead trunks that were lucky enough to dodge the falling shells. There weren’t decaying bodies threatening to trip them up as they tried to scout a path through no man’s land. He wasn’t dreaming of the future when he might be able to explore the region though. He was focused on survival.

The patrol to the crossroads took two hours, drizzling the whole way. The village around it was barely a village at all. Two dozen small wood and sheet metal buildings, a gas station in the center of the roads. The houses were filled with old grandmothers and children, Alice guessed the parents were out working the land. Tapia called out, one of his squads taking positions around the village. Then he looked to Gunner and Alice. “Gunner! Princess! With me!”

The pair ran up to join Tapia and his squad leaders, circled around a map of the area. Tapia smiled as he saw the two run up. “Gunner, your team will go north. Princess, you’re with my squad, moving east.”

Gunner’s eye bugged out. “Uh, Tapia, are you sure that’s how you want this?”

Tapia grinned, until he really looked over Gunner’s expression. “I…suppose you could both move north. No problems, Maduro?”

A young lieutenant standing in the circle shook his head. “ _No senor_.”

Tapia smiled up at Gunner. “There you go. Everyone moves in ten minutes.”

Turning away from the group, Gunner leaned in close to Alice. “You know what to do in case of an ambush, right?”

Alice glared up at Gunner. “Take cover and fight back. Don’t tell me he’s rubbing off on you.”

Gunner sighed, face apologetic. “You’re right, that’s not fair. Sorry, he has a way to rubbing off on anyone.”

Alice huffed, stopping to face Gunner. “I’m a trained officer in the Imperial Army. Just because I’m not trained to the same standards as some of the MVTF doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. I accept that I made mistakes, those can’t be denied. I still am a part of this task force, just like the other MV teams.”

Gunner nodded. “That you are. Alright, I’ll trust you. C’mon, let’s get to the squad.”

* * *

Parker and Deadeye stared down at the camp, watching the fighters moving about. Some were under a wood pavilion taking a class on the best way to avoid FLIR cameras. Seven were coming back from practicing their shooting, sitting down to clean their rifles. None of that worried Parker. No, that prize went to the weapons another group was working on in another pavilion.

Deadeye whispered from his position. “Generator, three meters behind the beds. That’s how they’re keeping them charged.”

Parker wished he could swear, but Deadeye’s whispering was enough of a risk without him cursing up a storm. They couldn’t radio out either, even with encryption the FARC camp had their own radio gear. Trying to send any message could clue FARC in that someone is close enough that their equipment could pick it up. Slinking back into the bush, Parker motioned for Deadeye to follow.

* * *

They noticed it a half-hour after they left the village, a fork in the road north of the village. It looked half-rusted, half-riddled with bullet holes. Tapia held the column, then motioned for one of his squads to hold the position. Alice saw him point to her and Gunner, they point to the left fork. Alice checked on her team before following.

The road was surrounded on both sides by trees, and Tapia motioned for the patrol to shift to a line. Alice found herself on the left side, Tapia in the center and Gunner on the right. One of Tapia’s soldiers was on Alice’s left, a young man that looked the same age as MV-7’s members. Fresh-faced and full of life. If Alice had seen more of O’Neill’s movies, she might’ve been worried.

Pressing into the trees, Alice thought she was cautious. She avoided the sticks, the dead brush, each step was surefooted. Until she felt it. The cold pinprick on the back of her neck. She held up a fist, and the line froze.

Silence. The line scanned the trees, a small clearing ahead clear of any sign of man. Gunner sprinted over, kneeling next to Alice. “What is it?”

Alice shook her head. “Something’s wrong. Something’s out there that will hurt us.”

Gunner scanned the brush. “What, tripwire?”

Alice shook her head. “It’s something bigger than that.”

Gunner ran his weapon over the same brush Alice was scanning. “I don’t see anything-”

Rifles ripped through the trees, Tapia’s men returning fire a half-second later. Screams in Spanish mixed with the crump of a grenade, and Alice saw roughly a dozen flashes from across the clearing.

Alice fired back, missing more shots but keeping heads down. She saw her team firing back, Randel hunched behind a thick tree-

A shriek to her left. Alice turned to see the young Colombian clutching at his left shoulder. Blood was already soaking his blouse and the grass around him. The boy’s teeth were bared, trying to hold back his screams as another soldier crawled over to him. Alice glared ahead, seeing some of the FARC forces starting to move to flank them.

“ _We need to break this ambush, drive FARC away so he can get help. They’re already trying to flank us, but if we can close…_ ”

Alice bellowed, “Keep their heads down!” Before her team could even acknowledge, Alice was up and sprinting across the clearing. She didn’t hear Gunner calling to her, or notice the rounds flying past her head. She charged across the clearing into the opposite treeline-

Alice realized that someone had taken her legs out from under her when she saw the ground coming up to meet her face. Rolling, Alice landed on her left side, rifle clattering away. Looking back, she saw a FARC bandit had grabbed her ankle.

Alice jumped, ripping her leg away and instinctively reaching for her blade. Then her hand hit her hit and she remembered that it was still in her pack. The bandit wasn’t so slow and raised their rifle. Alice knocked the rifle away, that was when the bandit grabbed their own combat knife.

The bandit was a woman, maybe the same age as Alice. Her raven hair was braided in a ponytail, and her brown eyes were alive with hate. Alice heard the word “gringo”, but that wasn’t important. She was focused on getting control of the knife. Alice and the bandit started grappling with each other, Alice trying to both keep low in the gunfight while trying to gain the edge on the bandit.

The bandit didn’t have skill with the blade, but she was fighting to kill. Every ounce of strength she had was devoted to killing Alice. If Alice was as inexperienced, that might’ve been a threat. Which made it unfortunate for the bandit. Alice was able to twist the bandit’s wrist, twisting it around before grabbing the knife. She didn’t use the blade though. She sent the pommel into the bandit’s nose, the snapping bone almost drowned out in the firefight. The bandit cried out, until Alice sent the butt of the knife down again. The bandit was dazed, long enough for Alice to find a new target.

FARC was still fighting, but two of them turned to fire on her. Alice charged them both, focused on knocking their weapons away. She slammed into one of them, knocking them to the ground. The second tried to raise their weapon, but Alice sliced across their right arm. The first fighter grabbed Alice’s blouse, throwing her off-balance. Alice answered by putting her foot into the bandit’s knee. The man screamed out, Alice putting her blade across his left bicep. As he screamed, Alice turned to face the first fighter.

She though the first fighter was father to her left. Instead, she turned to see him trying to get her in a bear hug. Alice ducked, but she stumbled back on the first man’s writing legs. The three collapsed in a heap, the first fighter crying out.

Alice didn’t realize what the sensation on her right hand was, she was busy driving her blade into the second fighter’s right forearm as he tried to strangle her. As the arm pulled away, Alice pushed the first fighter off her.

Blood. That was why her hand felt wet. Looking over the first fighter, she realized her blade was driven into his chest. If it hadn’t pierced his heart, he was done unless he got help. She tried to put pressure on the wound, feeling the man fight to try and keep her away. “No, I’m trying to save you!”

Gunfire riddle the ground around her. Ducking low, Alice heard more shouts in Spanish and gunfire from the direction she’d run from. A shout from the FARC position, and the gunfire started to taper off. Five seconds later, Randel ran over, kneeling down with his rifle up. “Lieutenant, are you alright?”

Alice didn’t know how to answer, staring down at the face of the bandit. He wasn’t much older than she was, glaring at her with hatred as the life went out of his eyes.

* * *

Parker was back in Miraflores just after noon, walking up on a trio of AUC militia. The trio glared at him, mumbling to each other as they smoked on post. Most times, Parker ignored the local flavor. This time, he noticed them shaking their heads and laughing.

Moving to the airstrip, he saw Gunner waiting for him. “What’s wrong?”

Gunner didn’t look Parker in the eye. “Tapia wants to talk to you about Princess.”

Parker groaned. “What that idiot do now?” Parker knew something was wrong when Gunner didn’t answer. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush on the patrol. She charged the FARC position alone, didn’t wait for any support.”

Parker didn’t react. That’s what scared Gunner. Then he turned. “I’m gonna talk to Tapia.”

Gunner flinched inside. This was not going to end well for Alice.

Tapia glanced at Parker as the commando walked up. “Who told you?”

“Gunner.”

“He didn’t tell you everything then.”

Parker’s expression turned dark. “What happened?”

Tapia took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. “There was an obstruction just past the fork, on the right. I left a squad to hold the fork and took the rest of the company left. We hit trees, formed a line. Forty meters in, Princess calls a halt. Don’t know why, I can’t see anything. Then we take fire from the front. We drop, return fire. I’m read to tell my right to start flanking when she, she charges! She charged in so hard I thought she wanted to kill herself.”

Parker’s scowl got deeper. “Is she alive?”

“ _Si_ , only one injury on our end, _gracias Dio_. He’s in the hospital now, one of my new men. They’re still checking on his injury, but he’ll survive. FARC withdrew as soon as she wounded three of them. Between our fire and her charging like a demon, I don’t think they expected a long fight.”

Parker nodded. “Tell the AUC we’re going in at dusk tomorrow, I’ll take my team and skirt around the back. I’m gonna have a talk with Princess.”

Parker started to storm off, but stopped when Tapia said, “Good luck talking with her at all.”

Going back to Gunner, the Brit shook his head and lead Parker to Alice. She was sitting with her back to a wall, staring down at the ground. Her team was eating, until they realized Parker was standing by and glaring down at her. No one dared move, worried that the slightest motion would set Parker off.

Parker grinned, squatting down to Alice’s level. “So, heard about the ambush.” Alice said nothing, Parker noticing she wasn’t staring at the ground so much as her hands. “What’s wrong, lose your voice? No big speech this time?”

Alice blinked. “This time?”

Parker’s grinned turned darker. “Yeah. When you charge the people you’re fighting, don’t you break out a big speech about justice and right after? Or wasn’t there time?”

Alice shook her head. “I didn’t…The ambush…”

Parker’s face turned to a terrifying scowl. “You nearly got yourself killed. You broke position and rushed active fire. We don’t charge until we know we can win. If you’re looking to die just stand out in the open, that’s why we use rifles now.”

Alice balled her fists. “He was wounded, I was trying to stop them.”

Parker was close to snarling. “One man was wounded! Tapia was getting ready to flank them, but then you wanted to play the glory game! You want to win some, go do it like every empire! Find a bunch of loincloth-wearing natives and kill them for their land! They don’t shoot back!”

Alice slammed her fists to the ground. “I was trying to do the right thing!”

“I don’t give a damn what you think is the right thing!” Parker was bellowing now, shocking Alice out of her trance. What she saw was a mask of anger barely concealing a raging storm behind the form of a man. What Parker saw was a child that thought playing dress-up made her something. Now she was in trouble for it.

“You’re so hard up trying to fight with honor, trying to be the hero! You want to be a hero? Put a bullet through your head, that way no one else has to risk their lives around you! No wonder they stuck you in a worthless unit, you’re not gonna fuck anyone else up!”

There it was, the glint in the eyes. “Don’t bother crying here, you can do it back at the SGC. Turn over command of your team to Chaser or Specs, I don’t care who. I can trust either on of them to know what the hell they’re doing. You’re done here.”

Alice found her voice. “You can’t-”

“I’m OIC on this op, Princess. That means I make the final call on what’s fair and what’s foul if it means keeping people alive. All I’ve seen so far is you aping for a chance to get a coffin with a flag on it. We’ll figure out when you’ll leave later, but make sure you turn your gear over before you do. Don’t forget anything that’s yours either, I don’t want to have to explain anything to Tapia.”

Rising, Parker turned and walked from the shaking Alice. Gunner looked between the two, unsure of what to do. Oreldo and Martis both stared at Alice, but didn’t dare approach. They’d never seen their lieutenant look broken before.

Randel went after Parker.

He caught up along the airstrip, Parker turning with a less-angry expression at the sight of the towering corporal. “Gonna tell me I was too hard?”

Randel nodded. “She’s trying sir. You know she is.”

“She’s the kind of officer that got the rest of your old unit killed. I saw the comics Locke brought back, we got the same intel you did. You know what I saw when I read those pages? A sheltered kid. Someone that thinks there’s really honor in combat. She’s a strutting martinet. Tiny, I wouldn’t trust her to command a color guard, forget a combat unit.”

Randel looked away. “She isn’t like the officers that led my unit.”

“No? Well that sure as hell surprises me. My country had plenty of officers like her, and you know what we learned about them? They want to be heroes. Get a nice chest full of medals and their name in the papers. Thing is, they don’t care how many body bags they send home to do it. She’s a fragging waiting to happen buddy, she just hasn’t crossed that line yet. Dammit, do you even know what fragging is?” Randel shook his head. “It’s when the rest of the unit has enough of an officer that doesn’t care if they live or die.”

Randel turned back to face Parker. “You’re right. You’re right that she still thinks there is honor in combat. You’re wrong about her though. You’re right that she doesn’t think about the situations she finds herself in sometimes, but she’s getting better. You’re right that she’s sheltered, but she’s trying to learn. She’d never order us to do something she isn’t willing to herself, sir. We know she isn’t perfect, or the best officer. We still see her trying. She’s got a good heart sir.”

Parker shook his head, looking at Randel like he didn’t know if he should pity the behemoth or laugh at him. “Fine, she has a good heart. That doesn’t matter when someone’s trying to kill you.”

Randel deflated a little, shoulders slumping as he turned his eyes away again.“She killed someone today.”

Parker blinked. “Were they trying to kill her?” Randel nodded. “She’s been like that the whole way back?” Another nod. Groaning, Parker rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. She can stay in the mission area. She doesn’t go on any more combat actions, she stays with whoever Tapia leaves to guard the gear. Don’t expect me to be gentle with my after-action either. I’m telling the brass exactly what I think we should do with her.”

Randel watched as Parker stormed back on his way. There wasn’t any feeling of triumph from this. It felt like all Randel had done was delay an inevitable end.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Tapia spoke to Cuadrado, the AUC militia gathered at the end of the airstrip. These men weren’t like the AUC in Cardenas, looking boisterous and excited. They looked like Tapia’s company, focused and ready for the mission. Deadeye laid out the map of the area where the FARC camp was positioned, looking up at Oreldo. “The camp is large. Ten or eleven building spread over a quarter-mile. Factoring in the ambush, we estimate from a hundred to a hundred twenty-fire fighters.”

Randel held up a hand. “Do they have any tanks?”

The commandos chuckled. Deadeye smiled, a small one but still a smile. “No, FARC isn’t a group to use vehicles like tanks. Jungles and forests aren’t good for armor. No worrying about jumping atop a turret today, Tiny.”

Randel smiled back, looking down at the map. “So is the AUC and army going to distract them again?”

Deadeye nodded. Grabbing a stick, he turned to the dirt runway and started drawing in the dirt. He drew a large X, then a line in front of it. Behind it, he made two small circles. “Tapia and the AUC here. We’ll split to the rear of the camp. First team will be under myself, and draw the camp guard to us. Second team will move into the camp, destroy their ammo dump and radio equipment. Remember what we mentioned about their weapons, stay low and mind your cover. The humidity will help thanks to the rain, but not so much it’ll save you. Understood?”

Nods. Deadeye turned and saw Parker arguing with one of Tapia’s lieutenants about something or other. More than likely it was about leaving Alice behind with the security detail. “It’s another Natsu.”

Gunner shook his head. “Nah, not another Natsu.”

Patch nodded, checking his rifle. “He’s right. It’s worse than what happened to Natsu.”

Gunner groaned. “C’mon, don’t tell me Havoc’s getting to you.”

Patch looked up at Gunner. “She charged an ambush to fight CQB. She’s lucky she wasn’t shot, not skilled enough not to be.”

Gunner tried to smile. “Well what about the records she found? Once we’re in Mitu we can confirm their finds.”

“She’s in intelligence,” Hotwire said, sounding bored as she loaded her magazines. “If she couldn’t do that she’d be totally worthless. As it is? She’s mostly worthless.”

Gunner grunted, turning to Bruiser. “You don’t think she’s that useless, right?”

Bruiser scoffed, jerking a thumb toward Alice as she sat quiet up against a chain link fence. “I think that lass has a chance to fill a room in Broadmoor once this is over. Face it Gunner, she’s needs to break or she’ll never learn.”

“Havoc was being too forceful though.” Deadeye looked up from his scope to see the others staring at him. “He was. One of us needs to sit down with her when we’re finished. She’ll never learn otherwise.”

Gunner smiled, nodding to Deadeye. “See?”

“I don’t see.” Patch dripped some CLP on his bolt, working it to spread the oil. “Havoc’s an ass, but he’s not wrong about her. He was right in forcing her out of command of her team. Now the rest of the mission proceeds and we don’t have to babysit as much.”

Hotwire looked up. “What are you worried about? You’re the one who put that Italian commandant in a headlock when he was going to get his men killed. What’s different about Princess?”

Gunner shrugged. “She’s got heart. She’s willing to fight, she just doesn’t know how.”

Patch pointed at Gunner. “She does know how, we’ve shown her how. Her team learned, she didn’t. She was treated like a child, you know Havoc could have beaten her bloody and no one would say a word against it. You think 4 or 6 would object?”

Gunner didn’t argue. “I’m just saying, she’s hit her point. She’s broken, now she can come back.”

Bruiser rolled his eyes. “If she wants to come back.”

Randel stared at Alice. She’d been quiet all last night into the morning. The only time she’d spoke was to turn over command to Oreldo after Parker had laid into her. “Sir, do you think-”

Oreldo shook his head. “Havoc’s OIC, he’s made his decision.”

Randel deflated. “It’s like we’re betraying her.”

Oreldo’s tone changed, becoming stern. “Big guy, you know he’s not wrong about the lieu-About Princess. He’s trying to keep her from getting killed, hell he’s probably trying to protect her as much as us.”

Randel couldn’t shake the discomfort her was feeling. “Does he have to be so cruel?”

Oreldo sighed, scratching his hair. “What are you talking about? You were right in the middle of the trenches, and in the Invisible Nine. You think he’s being cruel, compared to what you went through?”

Randel’s voice was hollow when he said, “That doesn’t mean I want her to go through it too.”

Oreldo froze, Martis shaking his head as he listened. Taking a second to run back through his thoughts, Oreldo went on. “Fine, I can understand that part. What about when you were in the trenches? What happened to the ones who didn’t understand what they were doing? If they didn’t learn their lesson what happened when there was combat?”

Randel didn’t speak, Oreldo didn’t need him to. Randel went back to the trenches, remembering the men who didn’t learn fast enough. It wasn’t even in the Invisible Nine, he saw it all across the trenches. The ones who didn’t learn how to listen to how the artillery across no man’s land fired. Who didn’t learn to never be the “Sniper’s Third”. Men who never dried their socks over a camp fire, or didn’t learn where the mud pits formed. They weren’t bad men, but that was the problem. Being a good man wasn’t enough to survive the trenches. Having good intentions didn’t save you from bullets or shells. Randel learned early that the best way to survive was to listen to the men who had that look of determination in their eyes. Not the officers who were eager to lead a charge over the top.

Randel knew Alice was different from those officers. Parker was wrong, it wasn’t about glory with her. Not her own, anyway. She did believe in doing the right thing, Randel had seen it. She believed in the mission of Section III, in helping the people of the Empire. Her belief in honor and right was even more incredible, given what she’d seen. What she knew now.

It wasn’t something he could deny though. Parker was too hard in how he spoke to Alice. He wasn’t wrong about her methods. Randel could understand survival, about adapting to a situation because your life depended on it. Maybe it was because he grew up in District Zero, or because of his time in the 901st. Compared to the lieutenant’s life as a noble, not realizing how much of her life was shielded by her title? It didn’t breed any resentment in Randel, but he wondered if there wasn’t some in Parker? No, that was speculation. Parker wasn’t wrong, even if his way of saying was. That’s what made it worse to try and argue against him. A person could always argue with a man when he was just being a mean-spirited fool. It was harder when the mean-spirited fool had a point.

The waiting was always the worst part. They couldn’t move yet, it was dusk or nothing. The FARC unit was, with luck, preparing to move. FARC was skilled at being able to pick up and scatter into the deep jungle, but not with the equipment Deadeye had seen in the camp. Taking care of the equipment would mean their fighters couldn’t move either. Not if they wanted to risk losing valuable gear that could serve the cause. One small benefit of Nod’s “contributions” to the world’s terrorists. The fancy new toys they all had were worth more than their fighters. Now they had to start making the same equations of the world’s militaries. Cost-benefit is a bitch no matter your ideals.

The time stretched on as the sun neared the zenith. The AUC chatted among themselves, looking curiously at Tapia’s company. Randel wondered what they were thinking. The way they were shooting looks, it was like they hadn’t gotten something they expected. True, the AUC weren’t a legal group, but from what Randel had read the Colombian government allowed them to at least exist as a necessity. Otherwise FARC would overrun these villages. All the files had said was that the AUC was a possible factor in prolonging the peace process.

Deadeye walked to them. “Up, we’re moving.” Rising, Randel made one last check of his equipment before moving on. Looking back, he saw Alice still sitting up against the fence. “ _Later. Right now you need to move._ ”

* * *

[Another](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFuWnxsAvSU) two hours march, and Tapia was at least grateful the AUC in Miraflores knew how to wear their equipment. “ _At least someone did something right with them._ ”

He gave Cuadrado credit, the militia leader was up at the front. Granted, he was up at the front with bloodlust in his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to cower behind his men. If nothing else, that deserved some respect.

The sun was starting to dip closer to the horizon, the sky turning a darker shade each second. Perfect for what they needed. Passing through the crossroads from yesterday, Tapia didn’t go right or left. He signaled the entire force to form a line and move into the trees.

He had to wait to signal his company to go slower this time. Cuadrado and his men weren’t amateurs playing games in the forest, they knew what to expect. They were quieter than the militia in Cardenas, their equipment fitted and straps taped down. It was probably for the best they arrived when they did, this could’ve been trouble.

Tapia signaled for the company to hold as they moved. Kneeling down, he unfolded his map. The FARC camp was another half-mile into the forest, from his read they were on the slight right of the position. He signaled Cuadrado to shift into an echelon left. If he read the situation right, they’d hit the FARC position with the center of their line.

Another half hour of moving. The birds called, the forest shifted, the sun-

Gunfire tore out from the left. Shouts and orders, both from the AUC and deeper in the trees. They hit the picket.

Cuadrado was already bellowing. “Get those leftist scum! Push in, we’ll burn their camp down! Second squad, move to the right! Push around them can trap them!”

Tapia let Cuadrado let the man have his fun, his people were hanging back again. There were a few on the line, firing and picking off the more dangerous FARC positions. It was the AUC’s fight again, and that was fine with him. Cuadrado’s orders were vague. He called out directions and orders. There was no indication of where, or who, or how. No matter the attempt to appear otherwise, they were still amateurs.

There was a noise in the fighting, one that Tapia didn’t recognize. It was high-pitched, and there were confused shouts about a red light. Peeking around his cover, Tapia didn’t see it until a burst of steam came out of a tree three yards to his left. He tried to figure out what he saw when a beam of red light cut through the brush. The light hit a bush, turning it into a cloud of steam. Two more came blazing through, one hitting a militiaman. The man cried out, screaming in a way that Tapia had never heard before. He could only guess it was what happened when a man was burning to death.

Tapia turned to his radioman. “Radio back to base, Nod laser weapons are in FARC hands!”

* * *

Randel watched from his position as the FARC base kept getting darker and darker. In the ten minutes since the fighting had stared, the camp had gone from a beehive of action to near empty. When the team had gotten to their position, the FARC force was still preparing to move. Their radio gear was almost dismantled, the sleeping area was bare except for the wood frames for the “beds”. The ammo hut was still guarded, a fire team of FARC rebels watching for any threat.

Fire from his left. Gunner was leading his team in, drawing FARC’s attention. They moved like machines, tree to tree covering each other as they moved. Gunner set up behind a tree, fired as Patch moved up. Then he’d sprint as Patch started firing. They worked as a single unit, knowing how each other moved and thought. Bruiser and Hotwire moved the same way, rebels trying to shift to face them. Patch took a grenade from his harness and lobbed it into the center of the camp.

The crump of the grenade hit hard, cutting down two of the rebels inside the radius. Randel held fire though, it wasn’t time yet. FARC needed to focus their attention on the first team, then they’d move on the ammo dump. The first team was doing that job well at least. Deadeye waited with them, watching for the right moment. The trio of guards outside the ammo dump were starting to jump, but not moving yet.

Parker watched the mess with dispassionate eyes. He marked positions for rebels, potential cover, places to direct MV-9 to use them best. He hadn’t fired his weapon once, not if he wanted FARC’s attention elsewhere. As the fire shifted, he held up a hand. Satisfied that the rebels were focused on the other team, he motioned ahead.

Randel rose, bounding forward as Parker covered him. Once he was in cover, Randel raised his weapon. Parker bounded forward, there, movement. Randel saw the rebel sprinting behind the cover of one of the huts. Randel could tell the walls were too thin to offer any decent cover. Parker put his rifle up and fired on the move. One, two, three, four. A cut off scream. Parker was in cover, rifle up. Randle sprinted.

One of the three guards saw the team closing in, and fired. He had a different weapon, even painted dull colors Randel could see it was shaped different from the rifle he carried. When it fired off a red beam of light, that was frightening to Randel. At least, it was frightening the first three times it happened. Randel noticed there was something wrong about the weapon. He noticed that the red beam hit something and stopped. Hitting a tree, it didn’t surprise him. Hitting a bush or thick branch, that told him the beam wasn’t as dangerous as a bullet in this environment. There was something strange about the beam too. It wasn’t like Goa’uld staff weapons, a bolt of light flying through the air exploding when it hit something. It was a beam, lasting maybe a half-second before disappearing. Maybe it was his eyes playing tricks, but the beam seemed to change. He didn’t have time to think about it though. He had to cover Parker as he sprinted ahead again.

He heard Oreldo shout something, but he and Parker had to focus on the ammo hut. Parker grabbed a bag from his side, opening the top and tapping at a control panel. “Three minutes, cover!”

Randel turned his rifle toward the ammo hut. The three rebels were firing anywhere but at him, but his own aim wasn’t so great either, not yet. It wasn’t like the Door Knocker he used on tanks, or the bolt-action rifles the Empire used. It wasn’t completely alien, the pistol grip on the rifle helped him handle it. Still, the rifle itself was only just getting familiar. He could feel himself jerking the trigger, the pull was less than the Door Knocker. He watched as his shots landed short and too the sides of the man he was firing at. It at least kept the rebel’s head down long enough to cover Parker. Parker fired on the other two guards, catching one in the face and the other in the neck. The neck wound dropped clutching as his throat trying in vain to live. Blood flowed out from between his fingers, the man trying to breathe and failing. Randel guessed that the back of his neck was wide open.

Planting the explosives, Parker sprinted back to Randel and ducked for cover behind a tree. “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” Randel ducked down behind his cover.

There were two blasts, not even a split-second apart from each other. The first was the satchel charge going off. The second was the supply of whatever explosives were in the hut. Randel kept his mouth open, an old lesson from the trenches. He saw Parker do the same. Neither one of them would need to worry about their ear drums.

Deadeye picked away at the last fighters in the camp, his rifle cracking in the distance. Then Randel heard it stop. He was tempted to turn back, but couldn’t. The area wasn’t clear yet. He scanned the camp, hearing rifle fire to the left. Gunner’s team was still facing the rest of the camp’s guard, but he could hear it. The shouts and screams from the Colombians in the distance told him they were broken.

A crack in the distance. Deadeye had fired at something, but Randel didn’t see any rebels drop. Not important right now anyway. He had to keep watch for any rebels trying to run back through the camp.

There. To his right, a group of rebels sprinting for the camp. Randel raised his rifle and fired. He knew he caught one in the leg, watching the man drop as he shouted, “Contact right!”

Oreldo and Martis shifted fire, catching the rebels off guard. As they scrambled for cover Parker bounded forward again. As Randel covered him, Parker slid feet-first behind the central pavilion in the camp. Concealed behind the seats and blackboard, Parker popped off round after round at the rebels. Three of them fell, a fourth screaming as he took a round to the right shoulder. Deadeye’s rifle started cracking again, more rebels falling in the distance. As the ammo hut kept exploding, Randel sighted in and kept firing.

* * *

Twenty minutes after the first shots, the battle was over. Tapia’s men were clearing the now-darkened forest, taking in wounded and any surrendering rebels. He noticed several times that a few men were escorting the AUC away, one even wrestling the gun away from a militiaman. He could only pick up pieces of the shouting match between the two, “leftist pigs” and “deserve to die”. Tapia shook his head. Little wonder why the GDI commandos recommended the plans they did.

The AUC hadn’t fared much better than FARC. There were dozens of wounded being carried away by their comrades. Dead militia were scattered through the trees, leaning against their cover or sprawled in the dirt. Tapia noted that where he had seven wounded, the AUC had lost half their ability to fight in the Miraflores area.

He stopped at a circle of his men staring at each other. Their faces were nervous, and moving forward Tapia saw why. They stood over the body of Cuadrado, the man’s face frozen in rage. There was a single bullet wound, between the man’s eyes.

“ _Very well,_ ” Tapia thought. “ _If that’s what it takes._ ”

* * *

At the edge of the airstrip, Alice sat quiet at the fence. She barely noticed when the Colombian soldiers passed her, or watched her with curious eyes at a distance. All she could see was the hatred in the rebel’s eyes as he lay dying.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

The company had formed up at the airstrip, waiting for the helicopters that would take them the last leg of the journey to Mitu. A small group of wounded were separate from the rest, men Tapia was sending back for better treatment. The AUC didn’t get the same consideration, Randel noticed. They were being left in Miraflores, in the small hospital at the end of the airstrip. It reminded him of the hospitals behind the trenches, of men bandaged up and waiting for relief. There were even doctors and nurses stepping out every few minutes, checking on the patients to see who would be next. It didn’t shock Randel, not really. It looked like even if the technology was better, how medicine worked was still the same.

The problem Randel had was Alice. His lieutenant was still quiet, her eyes far and away from the rest of the world. Maybe Randel was imagining it, but it looked like her uniform was disheveled.

Parker walked up, clapping Randel on the shoulder. “Ready to finish this?”

Randel nodded, turning to face Parker. The man was a sharp contrast, eyes afire with a smile that screamed, “Still hungry”. “Yes, but what about the militia? Shouldn’t we help them?”

Parker shrugged. “Don’t have the resources. They’re not army either, we can’t help them unless Tapia makes that call.”

Something about the way Parker spoke made Randel question. He was too flippant, too cavalier about the AUC casualties. “Well, Tapia’s men will be cared for, right?”

Parker chuckled. “Why wouldn’t they be? You okay?”

Randel tried to play at nonchalance. “Guess I have some things on my mind.”

“This can’t be right,” Martis said. Turning, Parker and Randel saw the bespectacled sub-lieutenant walking up with a newspaper in hand. “I know this is another language, but this is Sen. Mejia isn’t it?”

Randel looked at the front page of the newspaper. He couldn’t make out the Spanish headline, but he could tell the words “Mitu” and “Mejia” were close to each other. Parker shrugged. “So?”

Martis shook the paper. “He’s coming as we’re about to assault the last FARC stronghold! He’s a prime target for FARC to assassinate if we don’t move fast enough.”

Parker grinned taking the paper and laughing at the front page. “So? GDI can’t tell him where he goes or how he does his job. If he wants to go to Mitu, let’im.”

Randel didn’t get a chance to ask any more question, the blades of the choppers were approaching. Moving to his place in the line, Randel watched Alice not react as the Chinooks landed and the company loaded up.

The flight wasn’t as long as the boat ride to Miraflores, but Randel still hated helicopters. He was starting to get the opinion that he hated being on any aircraft. They moved too much, shifted this way and that as they went. If anything went wrong, you couldn’t jump out. The idea that the entire vehicle could drop from the sky because of a small mechanical failure terrified him.

When they touched down, Randel noticed the airstrip in Mitu was paved, painted, even had a control tower. The area was developed, taller apartments and hotels surrounding the airstrip. The sound of autos rolling through the streets mixed with music from a dozen directions, the small city reminding Randel of the nicer sections of the capital.

Parker and Deadeye started handing their heavier gear to Patch and Gunner. “We’ll scout for the camp. Talk to Tapia, tell him to get the AUC ready to move tomorrow at noon, all of them. If we aren’t back by morning, follow this route.”

As Parker drew out the route on the map of the area, Martis shook his head. “Wait, you’re already going? Don’t we need to plan this out more?”

Parker grinned at Martis. “Well it’s like you said. The senator’s a prime target for FARC right? Better to wrap this before anything happens to him.

Martis turned angry, stepping in front of Parker before he could move. “No, something about this doesn’t make sense. You tore into Lt. Malvin for rushing into a fight, now you’re doing the same?”

Deadeye stepped forward. “We’re not rushing into anything. We’re scouting the enemy position in preparation for further action.”

Martis didn’t get a chance to speak before Tapia walked up. “Company is disembarked, once we get some rest we will be ready for tomorrow.”

Martis turned to Tapia. “Captain, Havoc plans on attacking the FARC position tomorrow at noon!”

Tapia stared at Martis for a second, then turned to Parker. “I will make sure the local AUC are ready, when will the patrol return from scouting the area?”

Parker grinned as Martis was left dumbstruck. “We’ll try to make it back by 2045. If we aren’t, radio back. Call in a code Argent Two to GDI, they’ll take it from there.”

Tapia nodded and walked off, Parker handing off the last of his gear. “Relax, we’ll mark the position and take it from there. Chaser, any problems?”

Oreldo shook his head. “Even if I said I had some, would that stop you?”

Parker grinned, checking his rifle. “Just make sure they get something to eat. Deadeye, let’s move.”

As the pair set off, Martis turned to Oreldo. “Something isn’t adding up. He went after Princess for what she did during the ambush, but he does this?”

Oreldo groaned. “And what am I supposed to do? He’ll just overrule me like he did Princess.”

“So we don’t hold him accountable? If there’s a reason for this, shouldn’t we know it? Haven’t you noticed it by now?”

Oreldo sighed. “Of course I have. We keep shoving the AUC into the fight and leave them broken and busted up. Why doesn’t Havoc just order us to kill them along with FARC?”

Martis looked to the city. “It has to do with Mejia being here, that can’t be a coincidence. We need to look for the files in this city as well. I’ll get Patch. Tiny, make sure Princess is alright.”

As Randel went to check on Alice, he watched as the Chinooks readied for takeoff. As they did, he heard another helicopter approach. He saw it as he guided Alice off the runway, a small blue and white single-rotor craft. The pilot approached the top of the runway, away from the Chinooks and Tapia’s company. As it landed, Randel saw a man get out. _Senor_ Mejia.

Leading Alice back, he saw Patch smiling at Oreldo and Martis. “You’re both eager to get to the files this time.”

Martis pointed at the direction Parker and Deadeye took off in. “Well they were eager to go into the jungle to hunt down FARC. Doesn’t the hypocrisy bother you?”

Patch shrugged. “Only if it doesn’t accomplish the mission.”

Randel spoke up. “Uh, that Mr. Mejia is here.”

Patch’s smile widened. “ _Wunderbar._ Come, I’ll ask one of Tapia’s men to take us to the city’s government building.”

* * *

The files read like highlights from Calamar and Miraflores. Companies had tried to move into the regions, FARC had pushed them out. Only there was a name that popped up in the newspaper articles, related to the senate committee that allowed the companies their business: Mejia.

Martis turned to glare at Patch and Tapia. “What is this?”

Patch played so coy it was almost offensive. “What do you mean?”

“Mejia. He’s not in every file and article, but he’s in enough that it’s a pattern. Unless you’re a terrible translator captain, he’s on the committee that allows these corporations to operate in Colombia. Meaning he has more than an interest in making sure they can carry out their business.”

Before Tapia could answer, they heard shouting outside the doors to the conference room they were in. An angry older voice, overruling a younger on that sounded like it was trying to be respectful. Seconds later, the door opened to show two men in black suits glaring at the group. Following them, Mejia. The man glared at Tapia, storming into the room confronting the captain in Spanish. Tapia answered calm and cool, which only made Mejia angrier.

The man finally spoke in English, turning to Patch. “Was this GDI’s idea of handling the situation?”

Patch kept his face neutral. “GDI has acted within the guidance set for it by the Colombian government, we have only taken action in conjunction with Capt. Tapia’s men.”

Mejia scoffed. “Two AUC groups almost wiped out is your idea of handling the situation?”

Patch didn’t react as he answered. “We were advised to utilize the AUC in our operation, sir. Their lack of training is not a failing on our level.”

Mejia stalked up to Patch, hate burning in his eyes. “These are brave Colombians who risked their lives to stand against a dangerous guerilla army.”

“Then like anyone willing to fight, they should have known that their lives would be at risk if they saw combat.”

Mejia turned to Tapia. “And you allow this? Your countrymen being killed?” Tapia kept quiet, which only turned Mejia’s temper hotter. “Answer me!”

Tapia’s tone and face were neutral as he did. “Sir, my orders were to ensure that the primary targets of this operation were eliminated. My command gave me the orders that we were to clear the path for Vigilant Dawn.”

Mejia looked like he was about to start snarling. “Well I hope you’ll enjoy a quiet career after this, captain. As for GDI, I’ll ensure that Sec. Olivetti knows the full displeasure of my government at the handling of this operation. Especially the commando unit sent to assist in this task.”

Turning, Tapia stormed out of the room with his two bodyguards. The door slamming echoed for a few seconds, until Oreldo finally spoke. “He took that well.”

Martis turned back to the newspapers and files. Randel could see something percolating in his mind. He kept scribbling away at the pad of paper next to him, connections forming as he went. “Patch, can I talk to you outside?”

Patch nodded, the two leaving Tapia and the rest of MV-9 in the room. Checking the hall for any errant eavesdroppers, Patch leaned against the wall and stared at Martis. “What do you think you have?”

Martis held up his notes. “Before I was sent to Section III, I was in military intelligence. One thing I know I do well, it’s connecting the dots that no one else wants to or likes to.”

Patch nodded. “I know, we read the comics.”

“Then let me lay out a theory for you. Colombia has been fighting FARC for decades, and gotten nowhere. Roughly a decade ago, the AUC was formed to unify the various militias opposed to FARC in a single network. The problem is, the AUC is corrupt. Eliminating FARC is only part of the problem, especially when the AUC gets approval and even support from the government. This wasn’t just to strike at FARC’s strongholds, we were seeing if we couldn’t destroy the AUC as well. You couldn’t do it without risking war with the AUC. So you did it in a way where both factions are neutralized.”

Patch grinned holding out his hands. “You really are the smartest one in your team.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

Patch rolled his eyes. “You’re telling me that you’re hurt about what we did to the AUC? You read the same intelligence we had. You trust the AUC to disband and go away when this is over?”

Martis glared at Patch. “Does Capt. Tapia know?”

Patch rolled his eyes. “What do you think Tapia could do if he did know?”

Martis stepped back. “No wonder Parker’s so hard on the lieutenant. He thinks she’d decide the way GDI does things is too similar to the Silver Wheel.”

Patch smiled. “Right, and you’d manage to defeat the Silver Wheel with a squad of four and a dog.”

Martis didn’t react, he didn’t have to. Patch motioned to the conference room. “Your lieutenant wants to stop the Silver Wheel? Make the people who gave you hell pay for it? Then what is she willing to do? She won’t use tactics beyond the last war she knows about. She obsesses over honor and propriety when she’s going to war against a terrorist group.”

Martis stepped up to Patch, glaring despite standing a head shorter. “She’s still got the courage to fight.”

“So tell me, how far has she gotten on her own in fighting the conspiracy? She lets her own sisters tell her what to do, how can we trust her to be able to take on her own Empire? She’s good at picking apart the small pieces of the conspiracy, can we trust her to stop the major players?”

Martis stepped back. The silence was the answer Patch needed to hear. “What do you think fighting a group like the Silver Wheel is? Having Tiny jump atop every tank you come across and blowing the crew into pieces? Listening to Princess go on and on about how they betrayed the Empire? You’re chipping away at pebbles when a mountain is about to come down on all of you. So maybe instead of trying to defend the flaws in your unit, you face them.”

Martis kept silent as Patch walked back into the conference room.

* * *

Parker and Deadeye made it back to Mitu just before 2045, the pair getting what food they could in as they briefed the rest of Dead Six and Tapia.

“Camp’s got about sixty to eighty in it,” Parker said, smearing his cracker with peanut butter. “More laser rifles, about the same condition as the ones in Miraflores.”

Tapia nodded. “Then the infrastructure Nod had really is collapsing.”

Hotwire took over. “The focusing crystals are showing cracks. The batteries are starting to show signs of wear as well, any remaining laser weapons in FARC hands won’t be enough to act as a force multiplier for their forces when the operation begins.”

Tapia sighed, starting to pace next to the runway. “So the evidence. What does it tell you?”

Parker laughed, washing down the peanut butter with a swig from his canteen. “She doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing in a fight, but she’s can at least get her head around paperwork. Those companies that tried to move in were also sponsors of Mejia’s re-election. Seeing as they were all driven out by FARC, he decided that if the Army couldn’t get him what he wanted the AUC would.”

Tapia sighed, pacing in front of the commandos. “That explains why the AUC had such good equipment.”

Deadeye downed some more water. “You’re not going to present a problem?”

Tapia smiled, sad but somehow thankful. “Even if I wanted to, how much of a chance do I stand against GDI? My country has been fighting for so long, some of us have forgotten peace. If this makes a true and lasting peace real? I can live with a bastard like him losing what he has.”

Parker grinned, tossing his M&Ms up at Tapia. “That’s why we picked you.”

Tapia smiled, catching the bag and ripping it open. “I heard about that slide from the FARC prisoners in Miraflores. Are you trying to make the draft, or are you hoping you will be a walk on?”

Parker nodded, noticing Hotwire and Bruiser moving down the runway to Mejia’s private plane. “You play?”

Tapia shrugged. “I used to as a boy. My cousin, he plays for a minor league team in the United States. Shortstop for the Rochester Red Wings.”

Parker settled up against the wall. “He plan on going for the majors?”

Tapia shook his head. “He is fine with where he is. He says the players who go into the triple-A teams many times say they wish they could go back.”

Parker tilted his boonie down over his eyes. “Hey, least he gets to play.”

* * *

It was the same story as before, as Randel sprinted to the next thick tree outside the FARC position. The red “laser” beams cut through the undergrowth, steam throwing up more concealment for both forces. Tapia had organized the AUC to strike the camp head-on, and the gunfire in the distance told Randel both forces had run straight into each other.

This FARC camp was slightly smaller than the one near Miraflores. It looked like it was emptied recently too. Randel guessed that when the two camps they’d already hit went silent, the leaders in Mitu ordered their force to fall back into the jungle.

That wasn’t important right now though. He sighted a FARC rebel trying to crawl to cover behind a large rock. Randel pinned the rebel, dirt flying around them as his fire landed short. The rebel’s curses barely reached his ears over the fire from Gunner on his left.

Shouting. Looking left, Randel saw the rebels in the camp had shifted, and had put themselves between Patch, Bruiser, and the rest of the team. The two had tried to destroy FARC’s radio hut, but hadn’t expected the rebels to move to cut them off.

“ _They must know that they can’t retreat anymore._ ” Looking around, Randel saw that he was the only one who noticed. “Chaser, on the left!”

Oreldo turned, putting fire down on the rebels trying to corner Patch and Bruiser. The rebels were caught behind cover, forced to split their focus between two positions. One of them had a laser rifle, firing at Randel and Oreldo. One of the beams cut close, Randel feeling the heat coming off the air. Ozone overwhelmed his nose, his blouse smoldering as the beam cut over his shoulder. Wincing, Randel patted the smoke away and went back to firing.

The firefight didn’t last long, Tapia had pushed the AUC hard into the FARC position to clear the way for his company. Ten minutes from the first shots to rounding up FARC. Again, Tapia had some of his men keeping the AUC and FARC fighters apart from each other. Randel watched as the fighters in the camp were rounded up and marched away by the Colombians. As they passed, he saw one of the younger rebels sneer. He didn’t understand what the man said, but the tone was obvious. The only word Randel could make out from the insult before the rebel was shoved forward, “Kane”.

Patch walked up to Randel, smiling as he watched the prisoners get marched away. “This was it Tiny. Now the Colombians have a corridor to cut FARC in two from. Your team did some good work.”

Randel smiled back, trying to keep his worries for Alice from showing. “Thanks Patch. So what happens now?”

“We’ll need to go back to Bogota, then to Brussels for debrief. The diplomats and Colombians can work out a peace process from here. FARC and the AUC both got a reminder of who has power. Still, with this we can force FARC to the negotiating table.”

Randel looked over at the prisoners being led away. “So they won’t be executed?”

Patch shook his head. “The diplomats will emphasize that killing them all for what they’ve done will only generate sympathy to their cause. No, its more likely they’ll be paroled and monitored after a few years in prison. It won’t be swift, but it does let them live. That’s not for us though. We did our work. Now we do the most important part.”

Randel nodded. “Go home.”

* * *

Mejia settled in as his plane got ready for takeoff. The meeting had gone well, covered under his speech to the locals on how FARC would soon be defeated. He wasn’t like the other politicians, he’d known siding with the cartels was a foolish choice. No, better to break bread with the powerful that could actually get away with what they wanted. Once Vigilant Dawn had finished and FARC was broken, Mejia could play kingmaker for the corporate interests moving into Colombia. The presidency would be a few short years away after that. Until then, he’d make sure that whatever FARC sympathizers that were left would know that they weren’t going to be let free.

As the plane lifted off, Mejia had no idea that a faulty set of wires were roughly thirty minutes away from creating a short circuit in the fuel system. The plane and everyone aboard would find themselves plummeting into the ground when the system would send the signal to dump the tanks. The eventual investigation would find that the wiring system was maintained, and that the failure of the specific wires here were a one in a million chance. The damage would prevent the investigators from finding the damage to the wires, made in the right way to create the short circuit.

* * *

[Tapia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxKLtmLFStY) shook everyone’s hands as the Chinook came in over Mitu. “I can’t thank you all enough. With Vigilant Dawn underway, FARC won’t have any choice but to negotiate.”

Parker smirked as he shook. “Just don’t call us back huh?”

Tapia laughed, moving down the line. “If any of you find yourselves back in Colombia, feel free to contact me. I’ll show you the best clubs in Bogota.”

Oreldo had a sly look. “Couldn’t we just skip right to the ladies?”

Laughing, Tapia waved as he went back to his men. Gathering their gear, the teams loaded up into the Chinook and set back to Bogota.

It was another two days before they were sitting in front of Gen. Locke. As he read over the debrief, he kept glancing at Alice. Finally, she set the report down and looked to Alice. “I’ve made a note of your team’s assistance in this matter. Without your evidence we wouldn’t have been able to expose the corruption in the Colombian government.”

Alice nodded, but it was a robotic motion more than any actual acknowledgement. “Yes, sir.”

Closing the report, Locke looked over the teams. “I’ll recommend to Gen. Hammond and Capt. Hunks a week’s furlough. Given the pace of the operation you’ve all earned it. That’s all I have. Dismissed.”

The teams started to move, until Locke spoke again. “Havoc? A moment.”

Parker groaned, shutting the door after the others had left. “What, gonna tell me I was too hard on her?”

“On the contrary, I noted to Gen. Hammond you made the correct decision regarding Lt. Malvin’s actions. If anyone has any issues, I’ll be the first to support you. A curious change of pace for both of us. This is in regards to something else. We’ve re-tasked Task Force Bat, until we can find a satisfactory resolution to Kane being in the multiverse they’ll act as a support unit for the MVTF.”

Havoc leaned against the wall, trying to not look bored out of his skull; he settled for bored. “And what’s that have to do with us?”

“Col. Walton proposed an operation, designed to secure at least one universe from the threat it faces. The issue I want to discuss with you is the universe in question.” Locke reached into his bag and pulled out a folder. “You’ll want to see this.”

Taking the folder stamped, “Operation: SYMMES”, Parker’s eyes went from narrow to wide in seconds. “What’s the time frame?”

“We’re already equipping the task force for extreme cold weather operations. Current time frame is estimated at two months.”

Parker glared at the report. “Do they know yet?”

Locke shook his head. “We need to evaluate them, otherwise they may not be considered capable of taking part outside of a support role.”

“1st Platoon didn’t think they were capable. They almost got killed for it.”

“That’s why we’ll be sending Dead Six on a mission to observe them. If your report is favorable, Sec. Olivetti will approve the operation. We already have a preliminary operation ready to gauge their capabilities.”

Parker glared at Locke. “Try me.”

* * *

Four hours later, Parker shuffled to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of Gambrinus. The Czech beers weren’t bad, he’d taken a liking to them since he’d been assigned to Europe. Shuffling to the couch, he fell into his seat and grabbed the remote. The apartments for GDI personnel weren’t what anyone would consider luxury, but that was fine for Parker. Anything more than a bedroom, kitchen, and living room? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He was lucky, he’d managed to convince one of the lieutenants assigned with the US liaison to GDI to record the series, Phillies versus Marlins. He’d done everything possible to avoid the papers since getting back, he didn’t want anything ruining the games.

Setting his microwave dinner on the cheap coffee table, he hit play and took a drink. He grinned, watching Glanville step up to the plate. “Play ball.”

* * *

Randel shuffled back to his apartment, carrying the fish wrapped in newspaper. He’d have to save it for the weekends though, feeding the cats might be expensive if he fed them fish every day he was home.

As he walked, he wondered about the people on the street around him. The middle-aged women manning the stalls and selling newspapers and flowers. The street sweepers cleaning up after the horses pulling carriages down the cobblestones. The children running about with each other, laughing as they went.

Randel wondered about them. Did they feel safe at night? Were they eating enough? They weren’t questions he could answer, or even ask them in the first place. Still, Randel couldn’t help to wonder. Still, it was good to be back in the capital. To walk the streets after a mission and know he had completed the most important part of it. Coming back alive.

As he walked, he saw a pair of legs sticking out from an alley. Looking in, he saw an older man hunched up against a building. The man looked up at Randel from under his ragged hat. His scruffy beard hid an uncertain face.

Randel smiled. “You okay sir?” The man nodded, confused. “Want something to eat? I’ve got some fish.”

* * *

Oreldo leaned up against the mahogany bar, three of the house women circled around him. “So there we were, deep in the jungles. The rebels had their base hidden pretty well, but it wasn’t hard to find once you know what to look for.”

The women giggled, half-enraptured by Oreldo’s story and half-expecting their money for that night. It helped that Oreldo had already proven himself a perfect customer for the house before. The women knew him as a courteous and enthusiastic client, and the bouncers knew he was a flirtatious drunk at worst. The madame of the house still kept her eye on him from the bar, but felt comfortable enough that she knew he was always good for his bills.

One of the women pressed all of her ample self into Oreldo’s arm. “Oh, can’t you ever come in your dress uniform Oreldo? I’d love to see what you look like wearing it.”

Oreldo smiled, brushing her blonde hair from her eyes. “You know I can’t do that. I’d get in trouble if the wrong people saw me.”

The madame smirked as she put down another drink. “You’d get in trouble no matter who saw you Oreldo. Or do you not remember what happened with Lily last month?”

Oreldo played coy, holding up his hands in protest. “Is this the thanks I get for putting myself in danger for the Empire? A guy would think he isn’t appreciated around here.”

One of the other girls wrapped herself around Oreldo’s left arm. “Oh, I think we can show you how grateful we are upstairs.”

Oreldo smiled, throwing back another drink.

* * *

Martis drew the curtains tight, double-checking that the door was locked before he went to his trunk. Unlocking both padlocks on it, he opened it and pulled out the files Rainbow had compiled.

He didn’t bother reading about his own world. The more he read, the more he felt disoriented. There was nothing rational reading about how his world was a work of fiction in another universe. Instead, he dove into the “Command and Conquer” universe again. There had to be more, had to be something to find.

Kane was easy to understand, it was Parker that Martis couldn’t wrap his head around. He was offensive, borderline-insubordinate at times. Yet he was considered one of the best commandos GDI could give them? Why weren’t Dead Six good enough alone? Why did they need Parker?

What did Parker really have to offer beyond his skill with a gun? He didn’t have any apparent skill with politics or science. He didn’t command a unit like Capt. Campbell. He wasn’t a specialist in any kind of specialized equipment like Capt. Amari. It was like all he knew how to do was kill and destroy.

There wasn’t much to go on though. Only twenty minutes later, Martis had read over everything that involved Parker and Dead Six. They had only been in one game, and that had been considered a financial failure. There was no more information, so there wasn’t anything else he could go on.

Maybe GDI had something more, but Martis didn’t trust them to give the whole truth to the MVTF. It wasn’t only what they’d allowed to happen in Colombia. According to Rainbow’s information, GDI wasn’t above dirty tricks and skullduggery to get what they wanted. Could they be trusted to turn over anything useful?

Martis leaned back in his chair, staring at the “cover” of the game that Parker had appeared in. His evil grin, staring out on an explosion reflected in his goggles. Was there something more to Parker? Until he saw otherwise, Martis couldn’t believe it.

* * *

Alice practiced her footwork in her bedroom, trying to take her mind away from Colombia. She practiced her thrusts with her dagger, trying to force the image of the dying rebel out of her mind. It didn’t work, she kept stumbling over herself as she moved. Shaking her head, she went back to her stance and tried again.

It was his eyes that were the worst of it. Those hate-filled eyes glaring up at Alice as the life faded from them. Her hands still slick with his blood, knife clutched in her fingers as she stared down on the rebel. He was in pain, but he still glared up at her with a hate Alice had never seen before. That face had followed her from Mitu to the capital, and refused to leave her be.

Taking her stance again, Alice kept stumbling. Over and over, she couldn’t even make the basic motions to practice with. Jaw clenched, she kept trying to work on her footwork. That face, that hate-filled face, it didn’t go away. The more she tried to push it out, the more she saw it. The sweat beading on his forehead. His greasy black hair clinging to his scalp. How young he looked. Maybe the same age as she was.

Tears started to cloud her eyes. Roaring, she threw her dagger on the floor as her legs gave way. Slamming her fist on the floor, she started to beg. “Go away…Just go away…”


End file.
